I stand here alone in this quiet place
where family members lie
Four brothers, a sister and Mom and Dad-under a blanket of sky.
I take pretty flowers and put on each grave
and trim around all the stones
I talk with them and my thoughts turn back
when we were together at home.



There's a stone for my brother of seventeen
Lost his life in a careless act
On a tree nearby, you can see among the bark
a bare spot that was torn on impact.

The car belonged to his best friend
who escaped without a mark
My brother was pinned beneath the car
and died alone in the dark.

The driveway was at the side of our house
and they were turning in
When the crash was heard, we all awoke
My Mother mourned till her end.



The smaller stone belongs to a tiny baby
who died at six weeks of age
Our life and deaths are so distinct
as words on a well-written page.

There's another stone, a needless death
from a life lived too hard and too fast
A young man too, he was loved by all
--Death--the only road of forgetting the past

A sister who was not around
The way some sisters would be
Another death of one too young
but at the time, not clear to me.



I was a young girl myself when these siblings died
and time has erased so much pain
I find myself wishing more and more each day
to see them all again.

On Sunday my Mother would walk to this place
~put flowers on each of the graves
She planted a bush beside the big stone
-such loving, tender care she gave.

She smiles down on me as I stand here
--free from a life of work and sorrow
No pain, no problems, no worries now
not wondering how she'll survive tomorrow.



If time could erase the tragic things
and we could remember only the joy
of being with them, in our little house
-My Mother, my Father, sisters and brothers
--one tiny baby boy

I have only pictures now to keep in my heart
Figures on paper, nothing more
Times not forgotten, but in the back of my mind
The past is a closing door

I have dear ones with me to think about
So my memories will have to suffice
I turn around and walk away
from these stones as cold as ice

Soon I will come back, and I'll feel only warmth
because of the many good years
Once again, I'll say goodbye to my family
whispering to them through my tears.

All Rights Reserved~~Kacey


 

 

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Moon and Back photographed this beautiful old Victorian Cemetery in the lovely little town called Ferndale in CA.

They took these photos at the wonderful Endbert Beach in Northern California.

Moon And Back Graphics:  http://www.moonandbackgraphics.com