Memorial Day


  The tombstones stand like military men,
Lined up for dress revue,
The weeds all pulled, the grass all mown,
And wet with morning dew.
Throughout the day the people come,
To lay a floral wreath,
For loved ones who are buried there,
Deep in the ground beneath.
I wonder if someone will come,
When I lay there myself,
Or maybe there'll be nothing more
Than an empty flower shelf.
Will there be smiles, and some tears too,
That are left there just for me,
Or will my grave be one of those,
That no one comes to see.
I only ask you take the time,
To come and see me there,
To lay a single perfect rose,
To show me you still care.

© 2003 Loree (Mason) O’Neil

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