A score of years had passed since they had laid Their hard-won happiness in sacred ground; Three days, she said, were all the baby stayed. She came across five states to that wee mound. Some weeds had grown inside the concrete guard; We pulled them out; set makeshift vases there, With fresh sweet-peas, just gathered from my yard. She touched them gently. Then she knelt in prayer. I could but stand in throat-tight silence, too, And frame a swift petition of my own: May God give childless mothers work to do, And grant each heartache solace at His throne. Tear-blinded, stumbling, -- when we had to go -- She turned and looked again -- again -- to where The little cross stands firm through sun and snow. Should she be thankful that he slumbers there? (I thought of rows of crosses over-seas, And scarlet poppies, swaying with each breeze.) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FUN HOUSE FABLE by KAREN SWENSON BEFORE THE BIRTH OF ONE OF HER CHILDREN by ANNE BRADSTREET PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 99. AZ-ZABOOR by EDWIN ARNOLD DEAD IN HIS BED by ADDIE LUCIA BALLOU THE ARCIERI OF MICHELANGELO by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE STORM by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |