in a Lincolnshire churchyard

Gold cherry

By Coolhermit

Thu, 27 Aug 2020
  • 777 reads
2 comments
 
in a Lincolnshire churchyard
 
 
I saw from the bus
a spoil of displaced earth, piled
ready for a grave
some flowers too - not many -
no crowd of black suit mourners
 
one wreath, ‘goodbye, dad’,
‘goodbye, dad’, that said it all,
a solitary
woman looked into the depth
weeping, wringing tear-chapped hands
 
hands that he had squeezed
as he breathed his final breaths
sighing for loves passed -
he was all she ever had
he was not much - just her dad
 
I took a snapshot,
(the image, far too strong to
trust to memory),
as my bus moved past the scene
it crossed my mind to ponder,
 
will tomorrow bring
another set of mourners?
the churchyard’s thriving,
the village, fast emptying -  
'last man digs for the digger?'
 
when my bus returned
twilight cooled the lonely field
the quietness of
a brooding separation
hovered, heavy, lowering
 
the daughter’s back home
making tea and being brave
dad’s remains remain
slowly turning back to earth
in the sanctum of his grave.
Certificate U
Poem
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by Coolhermit on

I've used tanka format.

Each time I pass the churchyard that image of the young woman's grief impresses on me

Rick

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

A nice one, Rick, well done.

Best, Luigi