I came upon a man walking in the cemetery,
He didn’t look as if he were from a seminary.
He didn’t look as if he was very grief stricken.
His steps didn’t falter they only quickened.
He stopped by a grave and just started to dig,
With a kid’s plastic shovel that was wee big.
What a sacrilege and what an abomination!
He should be doomed to eternal damnation!
“Let me at him”, I said, “I’ll knock him dead.”
But they held me fast and he of course fled.
By the time they let me go it was too late.
He was off and running past the iron gate.
All I could do now was go check the damage.
Maybe I or one of the others could manage.
But when I got there I could not believe my eyes,
There on top of the grave was a grand surprise,
Twenty potted flowers of every color and size,
And a small plaque that read thanks from each of the lives
Of the students you died to protect and sadly could not.
And that’s when I realized the flowers were forget-me-nots.
(c) 2013 Copyright Elena Plotkin
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Comments about this poem (Forget-Me-Nots by Elena Plotkin )
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