Family Graveyard
My friend told me about this place
It's at the end of an old country road
The grass and brush are high now
As if the past nature tried to erase..
My finger traces the names and years
Of a family now so long buried
A baby buried without a first name
And the parents who cried silver tears...
Oh, the stories these stones could tell
If we only had a way to hear them
They cry out to not be forgotten
Remembering, I bid them a quiet farewell
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2011
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