Wrong Time, Wrong Place
I saw the saddest place today,
One grave,
Two babies
Lost the same day.
Ancient tree above them,
Not yet in leaf,
Covered with snowdrops,
Surrounded by grief.
Weathered stones around them
Tell of long lives, well lived.
Hard working farmers
Nothing left to give.
But these babies,
One six months, the other two years,
Shouldn't be here
In this place full of tears.
Instead, think of them growing,
First toddlers, then boys
Running through fields,
Playing with toys.
Next comes the man;
Then husbands and dads.
After long years of hard work
They're at peace, at last.
And then they return to this place
Cool and shady.
Well-loved, long-lived,
Not toddler, not baby.
13 April 2018
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