Thursday, May 5, 2022

a grave poem

quick drive
no more than three minutes
quick walk
down to her mother's grave

she goes everyday after school
everyday? everyday.

sometime its a short visit
pluck out a few weeds
a "love you mom"
and home

other times
its a lingering lawn chair sit
a one way graveside monologue
a wave of guilt
when the seeping cold, 
mosquitoes, or a steady drizzle
sends her away

    my brother is dead
    he's resting under a stone lamb
    west of town
    I've never gone
         maybe it is time

2 comments:

  1. I am sad for that young girl who has lost he mother too young, as so many children do.........yes, say hi to your brother for me, when you visit.

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  2. That lonely heartfelt, journey to those who once were, and now are lost. A mother in her grave, a brother in his resting place--a child's honour, a sibling's lament. This poem is a cry to us all--don't hold back. Man, don't hold back from those whom you love.

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