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  • Writer's pictureKelly Sacks

The Burial - A Poem by Kelly Sacks

Among the trees

Is where we stand

Me and Mary

Holding hands

With all of those

Who’ve gathered ‘round

A gaping hole

In winter’s ground

A bowl is struck

And as it sings

Silence cloaks

The living beings

Then some words

A poem a letter

Nothing Nothing

Will make this better

A brother a father

A friend a son

An old old soul

And far too young

Out come the shovels

Big and small

Trembling hands

Reach for them all

First his father

Then his mother

His three sisters

They bury their brother

The hole that was

In winter’s ground

Is now replaced

With a telling mound

The living then

Turn to depart

With a gaping hole

In every heart.

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