In Another Place
Copyright Sharon R. Poet 5-8-2026
I longed to visit your empty grave
On your seventieth Mother's day.
Will your spirit even visit there
Where there is no welcoming chair,
No violets, no weeping willow tree
No privacy to cry on bended knee?
I thought to go re-plant your tree
And hoards of violets growing free.
Like the way you wanted it to be.
But I saw Light upon your face;
Not there, but in another place.
Father's Return to Wilson Hill
Copyright Sharon R. Poet 5-8-2026
He said he'd call me when he returned home.
I had hoped and waited while standing alone.
But they kept him far away against his will.
Only his gravestone returned to Wilson Hill.
It now sits there beside the others -
A brother and two separate mothers,
Mere words carved into cold stones
Above graves that hold no bones.
Only the pines add a bit of grace
To an otherwise barren empty place
That has now been intruded upon
By a new house and unkept lawn.
I had longed for a decent farewell
But that chance was blown to hell.
Now I look upon his lonely grave
And wish he had not been a slave.
He said he'd call me when he returned home.
I had hoped and waited while standing alone.
But they kept him far away against his will.
Only his gravestone returned to Wilson Hill.
