Kellie took this picture of a tiny purple flower on our daily walk a few days, maybe even a week or two, ago. The flower is an exquisite beauty close up but not much to look at from a distance. Sometimes, bending over to look at something is worthwhile.
The poem that I offer today was written as I sat at Case, or East Richwoods, Cemetery after weed-eating around my dad's memorial and all of the stones near to his in 2005. I am going to guess that it was summer time, but I am not sure about that. Shortly after I had finished weed-eating, a line of showers came over the hill from toward Benny Risner's house and pretty much blotted out the world for fifteen minutes, and then, after the hard rain, the sun came out. I jotted down two rough outlines for poems while I sat in the work truck that day. The other poem Two Miles Down the Road is also posted here in my blog. I have worked on versions of The Weight many times. I think that I am satisfied enough with this one to share it with others. Though it is a bit sad, as always, I only ask that you--- Enjoy!
The Weight
The raindrops fall in swags across the sill;
The listless hillock a mile away fades
As a misty gray curtain slowly shades
The distance between us. The wind is still;
Oaks, maples, pines, hick’ry, and sweet gum chill
And shine silver like the breeze-blown grass blades.
All motion turns silent. The shroud parades
Loudly over the crest of Halpain Hill
And roars through the weedy grass pastures there,
Blotting out the marble tombstones in Case
Cemetery without one thought or care
Of the memories lying in that place—
No, not lying! Drifting in the grave air,
And now crushed into the soil’s hallowed space.