Poem- Edgewood Cemetery

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Standing in the final days of February,

among a crowd of family and friends,

but mostly those I didn’t know.

A long road leads to the end, where we

parked our cars for a day of passing.

A bible in hand, the pastor played the

subtle song of death, preaching to the

choir. I stood among black-suited men

each with a face stone cold. A fair brown

casket was pulled from an old, white car.

I carried the casket with the men in black,

still with a cold face and dead silence, along with the

casket, on their shoulders. Returned to the earth from

which she came, she was laid to rest.


That day I stood alone. Surrounded by many yes, but

having retreated inward. Silenced by my own mortality

and at the same time envying the body laid to rest. I

just wanted to lay down their with her. As we drove

away I wanted to stick around, talking with my

Grandma in Edgewood Cemetery.



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