Head-lamps browse darkness searching for the dead,
Unnumbered ghosts mingle with vapours of soups,
Fog whispers of breath in cold places under the earth;
Jokes drift from mouth to mouth: "Hi ho!" "Hi ho!"
Ritual call and marching feet: searching, searching.
The ghosts dance, play with the light and laughing
But the dead are silent in their cathedrals of bone.