Mom's Story


I walk by you
at least
twice a day
and wonder
how well you rest
there in the garden
the little cemetery
in my backyard

no stone
no evidence
for my neighbors
our general public
to suspect
the true nature
of the food
for the flowers
and shrubbery

the winter
causes me
the most consternation
thinking that
the frigid ground
tucked around you
can be of little
only you
the maker
and your fellow dead
I suppose
know now
of your true feelings
and perceptions
if there are any
at all

I feel
a responsibility
for your current condition
but who really knew
your preferences
at the time
your internment
was left to me
so you
were relegated
to an eternal solution
both simple
and prosaic

perhaps you
would have wanted
to be hermetically sealed
in a concrete crypt
a 20 foot high obelisk
of granite and bronze
a testament
to your presence
and passing
showing the world
that you were here
and continue
some how
to still
keep watch

as it is
I am the only human
who recognizes your grave
and even though
and tiny
burrowing animals
know your location
as well
are not

our secret
is safe