Monday, February 7, 2011

where I walk...

in our town there is a park
I walk it every day
in one corner are two flat stones
two small graves, one boy
one girl
in the park, in our town
I walk every day

girl gone at birth - 1901
boy three years of age, a son
died - 1907
in two small graves, this be their final heaven? 
in the park, in the town
that I walk everyday

children come stare at the stones
elders wonder - Who?
could be sleeping there
in the rain and in the sun, and
Where their mother? she rests not here
in the park, in the town
that I walk everyday

other's walk there too
mother's smiling as their children play
in the park, in our town
none offer
nor ask these two children to play
or beg rise up sweet little ones, from
where you so quietly lay, in the corner
in the park, in the town
that I walk every day

some will pass smile, some
look once maybe again, not
asking Who?  their mother might have been
what these stones might actually have to say
in the park, about the town, where
I walk everyday

copyrighted 2011

there are actually two little graves in the park not far my house...
this is dedicated to them...bkm

Posted for One Shot Wednesday....


  1. So sad when kids pass, makes me feel very lucky that mine are happy and healthy. Writing tinged with poignancy here. Nice write b x

  2. the repeat of those closing lines make this almost feel like a kids poem which nicely contrasts the sad to see ones gone so quick and yes leaving many questions for those that pass in the park, in the town where you walk every day.

  3. This was so melancholy, but also pretty introspective. I like the way you set the scene of walking by every day, against the backdrop of long ago lost children. A lot to take in - by beautifully sketched,

  4. this is good - for many reasons but mostly the treatment of the subject. very good.

  5. Part of my job as a groundskeeper at one time was to mow a small local cemetery and care for the graves. I spent a lot of time thinking on that job, and reading the words on the stones. Your poem took me back there.

  6. On that very bench I sit every day...see you walking in the park. Of those beneath the slabs I wonder Who? Under what circumstances? Were they related, had they been friends?

    Of course, I never really sat there on that bench, but I do wonder--every day I wonder!

  7. enchanting! with a wonderful music to it.

  8. The repetition adds perfectly to the sadness of this. Excellently done.

  9. I also hear music when reading this poem. But everything I've read of yours has music. Its so sad but I didnt come away from it with that feeling.

  10. this one tugged on my heart...the stories of everyday strangers

  11. Such a clear depiction of place. The repetition adds to the regularity of walking their every day. Being a people watcher who loves the park, I love how you infused the lives of the individuals throughout the poem. Heartfelt and easy to visualize.

  12. Oooh, I want to know too! What happened to these little ones. It's a sense of tragedy when stories of loss and tragedy are lost. Life changing events become just things that people notice.

  13. Poignant piece, Barb. I often wonder about
    who is behind the gravestones.


  14. i always have so many questions when walking by a gravestone, especially when I see those of young ones...this was beautifully written, enchanting sort of...

  15. Lyrical and melancholy - almost a song.

  16. A lovely interlude to life, in this poem, bringing the death of children to the fore.

    Sad, contemplative, and gives a fitting memorial just by the power and energy of thought.


    Lady Nyo....and haunting too, in the best of terms.

  17. Such a powerful, thought-provoking poem. Very powerful with the repetition. I loved this one.

  18. How sweet and touching. The repetition really works well. Beautiful, bkm.......

  19. such a beautiful dedication and so very sad to think about those children and their mother (and other family.) Your heart is so big, bkm, I love that about you. great one shot!

  20. an AMAZING poem. soooo heart felt, & sad :'(

    I think this is simply perfect.

  21. The purpose of the stones is to remember, but we forget anyway. Until someone writes a poem.

  22. Dear BKM
    Its so good to feel the presence of these little children...
    'none offer
    nor ask these two children to play
    or beg rise up sweet little ones, from
    where you so quietly lay, in the corner'
    Some times we really can not ignore things that are just beyond our seeing...

    ॐ नमः शिवाय
    Om Namah Shivaya

  23. The dead quickly fade into oblivion, so that after a short while even loved ones can't see their faces. But the dead live on in other ways, rising up in the subconscious through gravestones and those roadside memorials. (Another cabbie was murdered a few weeks ago here in Orlando, just a few blocks from where I work, and the spot where the cabbie was found dead in his cab quickly become a feast of flowers and votaries. But the flowers have all died. Staying with the dead here, enquiring of them in a sort of sing-song way -- like in a nursery rhyme, as if asked by a child wondering where dead children go -- makes this piece sharp as broken glass. Great job. - Brendan

  24. All thanks much for your beautiful comments...yes it hard to forget those two small graves in the park....that is the first thing I think of when I get close to that park. I believe the park was a family home at one time....but do not know for sure....bkm

  25. Such sadness! And what an impression you offer here of how over time we abandon our dead! Your emphasis on the mother in the last stanza resonates mournfully but beautifully still. Fine writing!

  26. I've seen gravestone of children in cemetaries. Always so sad.

    Nice piece.

  27. "or beg rise up sweet little ones, from
    where you so quietly lay, in the corner" Some great lines in your lovely story! Dark but beautifully written. :)

  28. graveyard wandering and wondering-- so many stories untold. a beautiful pensive verse.

  29. in the park, in our town
    I walk every day

    the feeling of loss is so great in this beautiful poem ~ yet i feel that somehow two little angels watch over you, knowing your daily visitation is bringing spiritual comfort to those who hurt while wearing life. Always love your poetry, so motivational, provocative, sensitive and stunning. You, my friend, are a beautiful flower in life's garden.

  30. A beautiful tribute to those two small souls lost so young. I like the lightness of the rhythm in contrast to the depth of the topic.

  31. Sad. Always sad about children passing so young..


  32. Aww... this one evoked some mixed emotions out of me... On one hand, I felt to see innocent lives lost early on, and at the lack of knowledge on the Who's and Why's...but on the other, I felt kinda happy to think that they live on, in that park.. smiling while watching other kids play..

    A beautiful poem, bkm.. and the repetitions at the end of each stanza really worked well too...

  33. very, very nice. Image clear and frosty (for me) and the two little lines...drifting me away.

  34. This is just lovely, and so melancholy. The image of two little lost children, alone there in the park, is so sad. I'm glad people pause to think about them, while children live and play all around.

    Thank you for your kind words on my blog. They warmed my heart.