This was inspired by a lonely graveyard in Independence Hill, Virginia that was across the street from my house when I was ten. I used to act as its caretaker.
In a church yard long forgotten,
lies Mary E. in a shallow grave,
the autumn leaves her only
hue, her simple stone
her only remaining echo
in this lonely Virginia wood.
Mary E. saw the weddings in
the church, the funerals and the sermons.
The picnics and the children at play
The trees around her held her tight
when the war turned all to night
in this Virginia wood.
She saw the soldiers fall all around
onto the snow covered ground,
their confused young faces pleading
for a mother's arms
and when the bullets stopped flying,
the boys stopped crying, it was
only Mary E. who remained behind
in this Virgina wood.
The church is now abandoned, only a
skeleton of its former self, it
will soon collapse and be forgotten
And it will then be, just Mary E.
keeping a lonely vigil
in this Virginia wood.
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