The Gift
Standing silent
The earliest – 1670
The latest still Fresh not yet
Disturbed by
The settling of time
Family plots carefully
Tended crowding
The solitary stone
Inscribed – “Unknown” Circa 1900
Early evening
Land breeze bends
Each grass blade, S
entinels thousands
Guarding singular
Tombs
Spring blossoms pushing
Through the same
Soil shared by
Louisa M. Shorter 1857-1950,
Rebirth As tree buds prepare
To explode into
A cacophony Of colors –
Red, yellow, the
White Dogwood
Soon to bark
A tree In place,
Planted
On the occasion
Of her passing
Now her favorite
Companion who
Each day a gift B
rings renewal
A butterfly alights
On my diet coke, it
Pauses and speaks
Well of hope – life S
pring dances with
Hundred forgotten Headstones?
Not Really… a Cardinal
Comes to visit and
The brown of winter’s
Remorse gives way
To the enveloping green
Of a new season
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