GRAVESTONES

GRAVESTONES

First my father left me, a burden great to bear.
My mother later joined him, disappearing into air.
And then my brother’s partner and a litany of friends
Who succumbed to the last big mystery, like sand before the wind.

All that’s left are gravestones and scattered memories
Of lives lived out on Planet Earth, in varying degrees
Of fulfillment and of fortune in all its sad design.
Their passing leaves my heart in tatters, sorrow working overtime.

The great promise of my father, to retire and travel far.
The longing of my mother, to catch his fallen star.
My brother’s partner’s longing for a love he never found,
Lies forever locked inside his crypt within the ground.

All that’s left are gravestones or ashes in an urn
And lessons for those left behind that we never seem to learn.
To live our lives intentionally, to be tender, to be kind,
To cut ourselves and others slack as we move through time.

To gather rosebuds while we’re young,
To catch some snowflakes on our tongue.
To go for ice cream in the summer, to ride the ferris wheel.
To swallow up our foolish pride, to tell our loved ones how we feel.
To understand that time is short and life so very dear.
To make the most of the dances and the chances given here.

First my father left me, and he left me far too soon,
And then my mother joined him far beyond the moon.
Then my brother’s partner, it was then his time to go,
And friends who faded into dust, like errant flakes of snow.

All that’s left are gravestones, the more we travel on,
And names to be forgotten when our lineage is done.

-BRUCE POTTS
COPYRIGHT 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED