At the Kinzer Mennonite Cemetery
At last, I see them.
I see them!
They are holding hands
as they rise from beneath the headstones,
Pillows of their double bed.
He speaks:
I stood where you stand,
In 1922, in March,
when the pasture grass greened,
Crying, holding the week old twins,
Calling to the mourners –
Can anyone take these children?
Can anyone take these children?
I went home with all six,
Hanging on each other,
Hanging on me.
How they huddled with me
On the long evenings.
Then the fiery truck
Took me from them.
1924, and I’m bedded down
again with my love
here, where the farmland
stretches out around us.
We rise to stare at you,
graying daughter
of our daughter.
We look across
83 years
at you,
older than we ever knew.
A beautiful poem and straight from the heart. The idea of communing with loved ones after so many years of separation is tremendous. Well done, a great read. Thanks, Richard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this Anne. It is a very unusual poem. It reads on many levels weaving in and out of style. I wasnt sure wether to see this as absurdist and then the next line would jolt me back into a reality that isn't mine. The structure of this poem is great, weaving about but always coming back to a centre. If I am sounding a bit all over the place then that is what reading this has done. I think this is really great.