black holes (by Rebecca Chasteen)

i keep trying to unmark myself (my skin, my ears, my mouth, my heart),

unmark the roads and the landscape of all the places we’ve been.

unmark the years…

 i don’t know how people do this…live with this missing and pretend it’s nothing, convince their core that nothing goes there, that it is in fact made to spin upon it’s own solitude, that it is not intended to ever seek or find reprieve, that it’s job is to spin and spin quiet and out of sight.

i’m trying.

but i’m worried about what will happen if i succeed.

Union Cemetery (by Rebecca Chasteen)

For today’s prompt, I want you to write a poem about a landmark. It can be a famous landmark (like Mount Rushmore or the Sphinx) or a little more subdued (like the town water tower or an interesting sign).

Union Cemetery

There’s only one reason I noticed at all
the graveyard in the field-
it was the flag pole
the red white and blue waving over the top of cornfields
that drew my eye to the white stone wall
and drew me back
all alone
to walk the stones
to find Julia Pinyan’s epitaph
that I still repeat over and over in my mind
and when someone dies

I guess someone else comes here sometimes
there’s a folded flag on one stone
flowers at another
about 200 years difference in the oldest birth and the youngest death
there’s also a can of dip sometimes, by the wooden bench

I touch the littlest rows of the littlest stones
and imagine losing that many babies
waking up each day with that truth carved out of you

The war veterans
the widows
and everyone else
that made a town
or a family
that endured a Great Depression
and a Civil War (who ever decided a war could be deemed civil?)

I have a feeling
they know the secret
I have a feeling
that’s what Julia’s saying
when her stone sings
those lines
about the victory of life
from their cool mossy place under the leaning oak.

http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/April+PAD+Challenge+Day+5.aspx