Tombstone Reader

I WANDERED THROUGH THE HILLSIDE CEMETERY

TRYING TO READ

THE WEATHERED MARKINGS ON THE STONES

SOME STALWART ONES

STILL LEANED AGAINST THE HILL

WHILE OTHERS

TIRED

HAD FALLEN AND SETTLED

ON THE GROUND

IT WAS AN ANCIENT CEMETERY

WEATHER-WORN AND OVERGROWN

YET HERE I FOUND ONE PLOT

THOUGH OVERGROWN AS WERE THE REST

BORE ON ITS BOSOM A ROSE BUSH

THE STONE STILL STANDING

AND ETCHED UPON IT VERY DEEP

AS IF TO SHOW THE CARVER'S SORROW

WAS WRITTEN ANNIE

AND NOTHING MORE

HOW PRETTY THE BUSH

IN THIS SO DESOLATE SPOT

I WONDERED WHO HAD PLANTED IT

SOME LOVER OR A HUSBAND

HAD DUG AWAY THE DIRT

THEN STANDING

LOOKING AT IT

HAD RECALLED LAUGHTER

SOME SISTER OR A BROTHER

HAD LOOKING AT THE STONE

REMEMBERED THE BITTER THINGS

THAT CHILDREN SOMETIMES SAY

SOME CHILD

HAD LOVINGLY PATTED DOWN THE EARTH

AND GAVE IT

ITS FIRST WATERING

TEARS

SOME MOTHER

OR A FATHER

LOOKING AT IT BLOOMING

HAD CAUGHT THEMSELVES REPEATING

ANNIE ANNIE ANNIE

WHAT WAS ANNIE REALLY LIKE

I THOUGHT

IT HAD GROWN DARK

THE SUN WAS COLD

AND SLOWLY SETTING

WHAT WAS ANNIE REALLY LIKE

I THOUGHT

I PLUCKED A ROSE

FROM OFF THE BUSH

AND SLOWLY WALKED THE HILLSIDE DOWN

CRADLING IT IN MY HAND

FRANK A VOLLMER