A POEM TO SHARE WITH YOU MY READERS

VOICES IN THE CEMETERY

Row upon row
of white marble gravestones,
each engraved with a hero’s name,
a man or woman
who once served this country.
The stones all look the same
except one---
my father’s name on one side
mama’s on the back.
My tears quench the January soil
as I lay a bouquet
on each grave.
I want to hear
more stories
more laughter
more silly hillbilly songs.
but the pristine marble
stands silent.
This field of snow
soaks my ankles
as I pour red merlot
into the cold snow.
I sip
pass the bottle to my brother
who sips too.
We hug
tears frozen on our cheeks
but still
no stories float
to the frigid air.
I call to the silent marble
then walk away
empty handed
empty hearted
bereft and bereaved.

Comments

  1. Thank you for sharing your poem. I loved your phrasing, especially: "This field of snow soaks my ankles...."

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  2. Vivid writing, Renee. So visual. I love those last lines: empty handed/empty hearted/bereft and bereaved. The use of repetition and alliteration work to bring this piece to a poignant end. Great work. Len.

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