Before Memorial Day

Momma lies in the old, old cemetery -- [A space] and then her third grandchild Stillborn after long, disappointing labor. Now largely neglected, I go when I can Seldom seeing a living soul thereabout, I put money in a caretaker’s wooden box Hoping he’ll mow the old section clean Of thistles, and briars, and overgrowth Before Memorial Day. The older generation are buried there, Grands and greats from the old country Come to work the mines, buy farmland, Start afresh in the new world overseas. Their progenies are in a new cemetery Perpetual care, a few miles to the west With a luxurious-looking mausoleum, Flat stones and always well-manicured Before Memorial Day.
Written August 9, 2022
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Krutsinger Avatar
August 12, 2022 at 9:06 PM
A lovely tribute and I am glad the groundskeeper has a box for donations.
Rodrigues Avatar
August 9, 2022 at 3:11 PM
And my dear mom, ashes in an urn, gives me a different perspective. We cannot avoid thinking of death. True story..sad about the stillborn child.
Dietrich Avatar
August 9, 2022 at 1:27 PM
Love the descriptiveness of this poem and how each stanza is matching in number of lines and ending line. I just love uniformity in poetry! I think I will let me family cremate me. I feel like few people visit cemeteries these days. When I am gone, I am gone, but hopefully living in their minds.
Hankins Avatar
August 9, 2022 at 1:34 PM
Thank you so much, Andrea. Yes, I plan to be cremated and my cremains will be placed in the same box with Deb's and a couple of our animals. I don't see that it matters much where the remains lie after we die. We are not there, anyway. Here, we live on in the hearts and memories of those who love us, but when they are gone, we pretty much are, too.
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