Thomas Williams - Coming home from work riding on an uptown Street Car in New Orleans. Walking 4 blocks home going by the Carrollton Cemetary, at 1700 Hillary Street, New Orleans. I suddenly seem to heard voices from the dead. "To hear a sound, or make a noise, no more dreams, and no more joys."
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As I walk by my neighborhood graveyard, looking upon marble and stone passing by names unknown.
I always wondered who were they congested this way, becoming apart of the earth and clay? And how I seem to hear their faint voice telling me. "To listen to a sound, or make a noise, no more dream, and no more joys."
A frightening thing this rest to me lying in the ground endlessly?
I love this life seeing the green tunnel foliage of sunbeams and illuminating flowers beneath the light and dark shades of the green trees leaves waving against the blue sky. And, of course, the touch of a nice breeze.
Some with flowers. Some with weeds, side by side for all to heed.
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"To Be Loved" Jackie Wilson
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