|A Graveyard in Virginia|
I melt into your dimpled cheek,
kiss your pert, upturned nose,
smell your windblown hair.
Remember her baby's
crisp clean clothes, neatly
combed hair, the absolute stillness.
... Hold you close, thank God it wasn't you.
by Margaret Bednar, 9.23.12
Baby or child grave markers in Bonaventure Cemetery, Savannah, GA
This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's, Sunday Mini-Challenge "Sevenling". A sevenling is a really fun poem, click on the link for the "rules". (no rhyme scheme and rule of three is used)