Its arrogance will break your heart. Two weeks ago
we had to coax it
into taking her body.
Today,
after a light rain,
I see it hasn’t bothered
to conceal its seams.
~Jo McDougall
I remember the anger I had at the seams in the ground where Caitlin's coffin was buried. A small rectangle of sunken earth with scars where they cut the sod to lay her in. It took a couple of seasons for the growth of grass and work of bugs to mask those scars. But sometimes, when the weather is severe, they can still be discerned.
I remember hating the bare ground, but being frustrated when it was covered—was I finding the right spot? It was so much closer to the road than I'd ever think it was. Even now that we finally have a stone, it isn't really in line.
ReplyDelete((hugs)) Sara. [I once dug the snow away frantically to find Caitlin's stone.]
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem. I'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteI agree, it is a beautiful poem. I imagine there are a million details you hold on to, that you notice. I'm sorry that you have to know them.
ReplyDeleteOh, I wish I didn't know what you mean. But sadly, I do. I too recall when my daughter's grave looked like that and how it took time for the grass to blend. Five years later I still get choked up when I visit her grave. So bittersweet.
ReplyDeleteThank you for visiting and commenting on my blog. Sending you peace, love and light as you honor your baby girl's life and memory.