Stark Hunter Poet Epitaph

Notes About The Poem

Poem 27

From the anthology Voices From Mt. Olive Cemetery, a work in progress.

 

 

Emma Riesgo 1897-1919

Emma Riesgo

1897-1919

Alas, I was just a simple soul.

Born second in the corner house,

Over on old Washington Street,

Just a short stroll,

From the college there,

My mother labored for 9 hours

In the sweating shadows,

Upstairs there,

In my dead grandmother’s bed,

And out I slunk wet and slippery,

Gasping but not suffocating.

When Mr White brought me here,

My, but the ride was bumpy!

Up Greenleaf Avenue I rode,

In Mr. White’s old horse-drawn hearse,

Past the Carnegie Library,

And all those stones there,

Past the Greenleaf Hotel,

And its broad veranda there,

Then left the hearse tentatively turned,

Onto flowery old Broadway Street,

Past the double-towered school there,

On pleasant Pickering Street,

Past the fences and the dusty walls,

Past the granite tombstones 

Of this bleak locale.

My friends, life was just a blink of the eye for me.

Just a simple soul,

Who found love at last,

In the cold dusty embrace

Of these old walnut trees here.

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