Saturday, November 19, 2005

Visit to a Cemetery

Visit to a Cemetery.

To stand and feel live, seemingly solid,
on the green grass in the afternoon cool,
trailing a woven thatch of bindies
behind me in the fringed hem of my long dress -
I searched in and out looking at all the headstones.

Some old and familiar to my child games,
some new and unfamiliar;
some I see with a slight shock, mentally erasing them
from life in the town below.

Coming to rest - acknowledging my father,
my grandfathers and grandmother,
relations all over -
I was never told.
I came and dreamt up my Mother
with all her love and I feathered my insides
for my life ahead.

I smiled at her headstone
with its ‘angels and flying ‘poetry’,
and felt the love rush in - allowing
me to leave her grave on the hill
which breathes in the soft morning,
grey blues and exhales like a perfume
the rose pink;
with no tears for now,
I go and put happy music on my car cassette player
and rattled away down the road,
the circle drawn behind me.

Therese Mackay      23/11/94

1 comment:

cs said...

MC,
I miss my folks terribly and wish I could at least visit their gravesight. But they, along with my sister, are buried out at Washington DC at Arlington Cemetary...a long long ways from Idaho. Dad, being in military was given full honors whe he died so they are all there. I think about going and sitting and talking...often. So instead we talk each day at home. It is comforting.