At the Graveside of One Who Suffered

How shall I weep with those who mourn When I have sensed the sweeter breeze Wafting o'er the stones and through the trees Across the sealed bronzed lid of death-borne Sadness, yet eternal healing surely means The bereft of pain are free; The bereft of loss are free. And so am I who stands before the glaring pit Gazing into vast eternity, thinking only of me. I shall not linger long to greet the wounded Souls, whose cries of anguish at the bier Reawakened in me long-dormant fear of dying O, pity me, that I should self-accusing be Grief-stricken without a solitary tear. Published in PS: IT'S POETRY Anthology of Poetry Soup Arczis Web Technologies, Inc., 2020 FIRST PLACE WINNER Brian Strand's Contest 2021 SELECTED FEATURED POEM Poetry Soup, September 28, 2021 POETRY.COM COLLECTION Poetry.com April 16, 2022