Elegy

For Joyce, 1932 - 1942

On this stone

a name and date

chiseled with finality

On this stone

the saddest fate

a harsh, bitter banality

On this stone 

are weathered scars

the first, her mother's tears

On this stone

the proof she's ours

gone these many years

On this stone

a soul unknown

gives blooms of honey gold

On this stone

all sorrow sown

a child's story told

Author's Note

My father had a sister who died when she was 9 years old; she's buried in a church cemetery near my home. Last spring, I went to the grave as I occasionally do, and saw a yellow flower placed there. A few months ago, I was there for a funeral, and saw another flower there. No other family members who know of her live nearby. No one seems to know who is placing flowers on this child's grave. And so, this poem...

Reviews

[Renée]

beautiful Rita... I love that you added the author's note so we know the story behind..
People that frequent Cemeteries often take care of forgotten graves or leave a little something for little ones they always pass by ...very tender...

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you, Renee. That seems to be the consensus, that someone (maybe who lost a child themselves) is leaving flowers on children's graves. Each time I see the flowers, I pray for the person who leaves them.

[Renée]

From the little I have gotten to know you...I would expect nothing less from you ( :

[rhythm&blues]

Reading this gave me chills, very sad yet your note is uplifting to think someone is there thinking of her always.

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you, R&B. It really is a strange comfort to me...

[Troy Henson]

A beautiful moving piece.
Short lines but great imagery made this.

A tearful story with an unfinished end.....to whom leaves the flowers may they continue and may you feel humbled and touched. I don't think it's important who leaves the flowers but more importantly....thank you to them:)

Regards
Troy

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you, Troy. You are right - I no longer wonder so much who leaves the flowers - I am simply grateful...

[Aethereal]

I enjoy the way this poem chants its sad refrain. Perhaps someone should write a poem from the perspective of someone who has lost a child, and now walks the cemeteries placing little yellow flowers on the graves of every child found. Every child lost during a certain year in the past when she lost hers then becomes her child also.

[Rita L. Sev]

That is a beautiful sentiment. Thank you.

[Travis Gibson (poetic h..]

This was so very touching. I often find reason to avoid people, I constantly feel my faith in man slipping. The story of the unexplained flowers is a wonderful thing to have read... its those acts that keep my light of faith in the world around me burning.

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you, Hero. I am touched every time I see flowers there, and it does give me hope for humanity...

[Travis Gibson (poetic heroics)]

And it should... its wonderful to know unselfish love still lives on earth.

[Angi]

This is a lovely, sad poem. I wonder who is leaving flowers for her? Angi~

[Rita L. Sev]

We still do not know... but I am always touched to see them there. Thanks, Angi.

[Cassie]

This is sad Rita, loved reading it. It brought all the emotions inside me and tears too...

[Rita L. Sev]

Thank you Cassie.

[Angel]

My sister's little girl was diagnosed with cancer when she was only one and a half years old. This was over thirty years ago. She spent most of her life in hospitals...
She died when she was three.
I can relate to this poem. I understand...

[Rita L. Sev]

I never knew her, but I can remember my grandmother talking about her. I make it a point to visit her grave at least once a year. Thanks, Angel.

[Jennifer Gladen]

Loved this! Great Rhythm. Maybe St. Terese has been visiting your father's sister ? :)

[Rita L. Sev]

Why didn't I think of that? The Little Flower - for our family's little flower... Thank you!

[realmwriter]

Forgive me please, I made no mention of the poem itself.

This is an incredible write and a fitting tribute, I do believe, to the Aunt you never had the chance to meet...! To whomever is leaving the flower on the grave, I say, thank you. From a complete stranger whom you will never meet, you have done a kindness that can never be repaid nor is that the point.