Friday, June 5, 2009

"haverhill cemetery, on old 52"

By Angie

he walked up pointing his
cane at our flowers calling
to us saying I know your
people they're good people
we're all good people 'round
here we were good kids back
then I remember we didn't do
nothing real bad just got into
fistfights yeah we stole us some
watermelons those boys could play
ball your granddaddy was a pitcher
oh he had an arm we were just kids

he said well I just buried my son
he retired then he died it don't
seem right but you know
these things happen the sun's
shining today and we're still
here tell your daddy I knew his
daddy I always remember
good people

I picked a dandelion puffed
full with seed and blew
little pieces of life grabbed the wind
they danced their way through the cemetery

they looked like angels

1 comment:

  1. Hi, Greg!
    Thanks for posting my poems here on your lovely blog! I'm glad you enjoyed them. I'm not always sure that my point is getting through...

    This looks like a nice place you have here--I'm going to add you to my "roll!"


    (My full name is Angie Werren, if you want to add the last name. ;)