A Softening of Sadness

 

The early June lilacs are fading

But the wind still brings

their sweet breath to my nose.

We, on our evening stroll

Come to the old cemetery

In the heart of the village.

A lovely carpet of English Daisies

Blankets the earth around

The reconstructed gravestones.

Shining white with yellow hearts

The flowers feel like a kindness,

A softening of the sadness shared

By the weathered stones.

Babies and children lie

Under this floral spread

White as the gravestones

Decorated with little lambs.

These first settlers on this stolen

land came to work at the saw mill.

Perhaps this was a new chance

For a good life in those 1880’s.

Not so for those who rest here.

In the distance, the church bell

Soberly rings six times

For these young ones?

For we old ones? For us all?

Nearing home a crow swoops

Low across my path

Reminding me to be grateful

For the life I am living.