Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Graveside
We sat in folding chairs
My father who had forgotten me
My forgiven self next to him
The minister closing her Bible
Looking at us, waiting with us
Earth, lush and dark and waiting
Loamy, asking to be held
Then soft tapping on my shoulder
Janice, it’s me, Carolyn
We ran through the barn doors
Weaved around trees with hanging buckets
Stood in the yellow heat of the sugar shack
Licked the earth’s plums from our fingers
Said goodbye for fifty years, fifty years
Felt the silvery, light rain on our heads
Remembered everything and nothing
Studied the thick beautiful earth for answers
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Written in response to The Daily Post prompt: Earth
7 Comments on “Graveside”
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Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
This made me cry. Twice.
I’m glad it hit home in some way.
Good heavens! This touched me.
Beautiful poignant words.
Touching!
Olga – Thank you! I wrote it and started immediately thinking that no one will get it because I tried to squeeze too much into one thing. Which might still be true but I really appreciate your comment. 🙂
With a very emotional piece of writing like yours, it’s difficult to know how to comment at times. 🙂