The soil stirs, still warm, under their names.
Please visit Sepia Saturday
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Phebe Jane, Clarissa, Rebecca, Allice, Olive, Nancy
My daughter and I walked among the women on the hill, where they rest in the sunshine, hot sunshine buzzing with flying things, rest from their housekeeping, the washing and washing up, the clearing away and folding, the stacking of platters. I took away, when I left, a hundred questions: for which the shameful secret, the secret love; for which the nerves and headaches; for which the murdered child; for which the bottle; for which a sheaf of letters never out of mind; for which the locked box, full of pennies saved toward a leave-taking?
The soil stirs, still warm, under their names.
Please visit Sepia Saturday
The soil stirs, still warm, under their names.
Please visit Sepia Saturday
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15 comments:
nice...i grew up by a graveyard used to walk among the names...heck we used to play there as kids...
With you, I wonder about the lives of my ancestors who lie below the gravestones. Sometimes we learn a little but it's always such a little compared to a whole life lived. Great photos and post, Leah. Thanks.
A shiver, a shudder, a thought-provoking post!
Your text is more poetry than pose. As for your old photos, like the gravestones, they are reminders of that which no longer exists.
Those are nice old-fashioned names on the old gravestones.
Oh dear ...
The dexterity of description goes before you once again Leah. The last line... as near to perfection as it gets.
Where others, so unseeing, read only at a glimpse, I can taste each feeling as they take control of your pen.
There's always something to discover in a cemetery.
I'm exploring Mount Royal Cemetery in Montreal next weekend.
Astonishing how images can be so poetic and words can be so visual. Masterful.
When I read your post the last thing I was expecting was to see gravstones. Now I must check out the local churchyard.
Beautifully done!
I love to walk among the gravestones and wonder too. Nice post.
reading your prose, i suddenly felt warmer, and it is hot enough already here...
evocative...
nice.
more?
(yeah, i'm a man of a few words...)
:)~
HUGZ
Great writing to compliment your photos.
Graveyards are so much more comforting than cemeteries but I want to be scattered to the four winds. Later on.
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