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