God's acre was her garden-spot, she said;
She sat there often, of the Summer days,
Little and slim and sweet, among the dead,
Her hair a fable in the leveled rays.
She turned the fading wreath, the rusted cross,
And knelt to coax about the wiry stem.
I see her gentle fingers on the moss
Now it is anguish to remember them.
And once I saw her weeping, when she rose
And walked a way and turned to look around-
The quick and envious tears of one that knows
She shall not lie in consecrated ground.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Dorothy Parker Poems
Analysis and Comments on Garden-Spot
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Garden-Spot here.
Commenting has been disabled for now.