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| 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)
13 comments:
cuts straight to the heart.
Wow...you really did justice to the sevenling form!
Really well done. Very poignant. k.
I feel sad to see those baby graves ~ Well done with the form, it pierced through my mother's heart ~
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.
It always breaks my heart when I see those tiny graves. I know...."thank God it wasn't you."
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! :)
This form lends itself well to the sentiment you lay out for us. And being a mother, it really resonates with me. Well done.
Always heartbreaking to see the graves of children.
Words and pictures a perfect match--and it would be unnatural not to treasure what you have, despite another's terrible loss.
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.
Guilt and joy all in one. Nicely done.
Mother's guilt is like this; you caught it well.
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