Babys Grave

they grew up spontaneously after the baby was buried
a clump of wild flowers in the middle of the wagon trail
not grieving the child, but celebrating her life
a vibrant hill of wild flowers, seemingly renegade
God’s hand would have been noted had they known
of the small baby who died during the trip to California
Consumption got her, and she was left, in this prairie
Not alone for long, for the flowers appeared every year
Queen Anne’s lace, iris, lilies, and daffodils
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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