Sunday, September 23, 2012

The Sunday Mini-Challenge - Sevenling poetry "A Mother's Guilt"

A Graveyard in Virginia
A Mother's Guilt

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)


13 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

cuts straight to the heart.

Mary said...

Wow...you really did justice to the sevenling form!

manicddaily said...

Really well done. Very poignant. k.

Grace said...

I feel sad to see those baby graves ~ Well done with the form, it pierced through my mother's heart ~

Kerry O'Connor said...

Yes, the sight of a child's grave must strike any mother's breast with abject fear.
Thank you so much for sharing your photo with us on Real Toads.

Ginnie said...

It always breaks my heart when I see those tiny graves. I know...."thank God it wasn't you."

Hannah said...

Oh, Margaret, chills...we have a baby marker in our cemetery here that always, always sets me to wonder and also at the same time reminds me to count my blessings. Wonderful write! I love the way pert and upturned play together sound-wise! :)

Other Mary said...

This form lends itself well to the sentiment you lay out for us. And being a mother, it really resonates with me. Well done.

Daydreamertoo said...

Always heartbreaking to see the graves of children.

hedgewitch said...

Words and pictures a perfect match--and it would be unnatural not to treasure what you have, despite another's terrible loss.

Helen said...

Margaret, I got as far as the title 'A Mother's Guilt' ... leery of what might follow (we all have it, don't we) ... A reminder to treasure our little ones, no matter their age, no matter how far away they might live.

Susan said...

Guilt and joy all in one. Nicely done.

hoofprintsinmygarden said...

Mother's guilt is like this; you caught it well.