Life eternalized

Today is the last day of April. April 30, 2020.

It is also the last day of National Poetry Writing Month.

What a month to celebrate poetry. Thirty days (and more) of social distancing and worry and uncertainty. Thirty days of poems.

So I did it. A poem—or at least a draft—and blog each of the thirty days. Poetry journeyed with me through these uncertain days and will continue to be a traveling companion as April showers bring May flowers. . .


I went to see her new headstone
and the gate was open, just a crack.
Did someone sneak in

or out—

Cement kings and queens,
knights and pawns too
plot a resurrection
of memories in repose
Grandpa wearing his best Sunday suit
Ephremia Myers lying down
next to her only child
(born September 6, 1885,
died October 4, 1991)
Uncle Lock and Aunt Mary
side by side
they always were—

I turn to leave,
muddy handprints
—dust to dust—
on my jeans
marked by remembering
mama is at rest

Or is she—

I key in the number to
Lady’s Funeral Home:
“There’s no death date
on my mother’s tombstone.
What should I do?”

What indeed?

I smiled.
She did too—I think.

Life eternal—