ALL SOULS

By Hetta Jones

The autumn night is cold and damp

The souls are quiet in their graves

In churchyard and cemetery, at ease

While somnolent horses snuffle and stamp

Fog over the road, shimmers and waves

Tonight it might be the earliest freeze

Are those beyond the church walls

At rest? The suicides, the knaves

The unwelcome, the unknown, to god appease

But what of those without time for ecclesiastical falls

Why didn’t god want the unchristened babies?

#darkpoetsclub