RESTING PLACE.

May 08, 2007 10:27 AM EDT

views: 15 | comments: 7

They have laid her here somewhere,
Against this wall
Between the trees and weeds.

Scarce seems possible
Her bones could lie
So still and lost so long.

Move the weeds; look for the name.
Weather’s worn most words away,
But some’s still there,

The name, the year.
She used to lie
Beside me in my youth

And lay her head
Along my cheek
And kiss the ears and brows.

How soon the world forgets.
How soon the moss and weeds descend.
Is this her final place? Was this the way to end?

Tags: visiting the dead, graves, memories, poem

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Comments: 7

Edward Nudelman May 8, 2007, 10:55am EDT

Extremely evocative poem, Terry. It is the question(s)
of every lover who loses their love. Beautiful rendered.

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Terry Collett May 8, 2007, 10:56am EDT

Thank you, Ed, I value your opinion.

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Gorgeous Gabby, a Gather Geeky Gal, and The Giz May 8, 2007, 11:08am EDT

this one is very close to home for me, it made me sad, but that was the intent, right? it made me sad, too, for the author who has lost a love. great work. thanks for sharing.

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It's Not Me w. May 9, 2007, 11:29am EDT

A lovely poem of loss. ..."Is this her final place? Was this the way to end?"... I'd like to think that it's not the end, rather a new beginning. Some say that the dead stay with us and that they leave little signs to show us that they are around. Thanks for sharing your work.

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