Sacred Ground
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
They didn’t dig you up, only my feelings,
stilled ones that slept with you under the ground.
Deep wounds that went unnoticed by their absence,
well-buried until anguish lost was found.
It rose through burrowed holes into my center,
landed in vestal regions of my heart.
I once thought grief had settled every corner,
but grief had only made a sweeping start.
Such violation of an autumn morning,
free fall into a mourning that was mine.
Marauders breached soft boundaries without warning,
defiled the borders, plowed beyond the line.
The ground they took stood barren, brown and lifeless,
bereft of soothing blades of verdant green.
Dark tunnels wound beneath a granite headstone
to storm your safe place, every gouge obscene.
Sacred ground is sacred ground is sacred.
Let there be no exceptions, no defense.
Desecrating diggers…shameless gophers.
Repeat offenders without recompense.
(Lesson in metaphor, to be borne hence:
Grief builds no border walls, just chain-link fence.)
∞§∞
If this poem resonates with you, you might also relate to No Small Thing and A Slice of Joy.
Tags: cemeteries, child loss, complex grief, death, graves, grief, loss, mourning, triggers