Poem 81: Grave stone

The gravestone says it all –
Dulcie, loved wife of Paul. She is
safe in arms of Jesus;
loved until hell freezes over;
mourned and missed forever.
Another could never replace
her face, her smile, her grace.
And Paul would take the space next her

when he goes. But I fear,
it being one hundred years ago,
we’ll clearly never know
if Paul moved on to hoe a new
and different field. For see,
lichen covers Dulcie’s name; dank
her space. Paul’s stays blank.


(Based on the Vietnamese luc bat form)

12 thoughts on “Poem 81: Grave stone

    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      I live near a large cemetery and am amazed at the number of old gravestones of young wives who presumably died in childbirth, and are buried with a space for her husband later, and the space was never used…


      1. thegreydivorceeblog

        I can’t blame the young widowers for moving on with their lives, but the thought of their young wives buried next to unused graves is incredibly sad. It’s like they’re doomed to spend eternity waiting for someone who won’t be coming.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Bruce Goodman Post author

          Agreed! I notice some widow gets married to a widower – and after many years of happy marriage, both get buried back with the original spouse. It not only saves money!! it seems to be a reasonable resolution.


          1. umashankar

            I guess that happens with everyone–
            It’s your brain’s locomotion
            that tingles and burns into the spores
            like droplets of some aftershave lotion
            bought hastily in an airport lounge
            where salesgirls waft like butterflies
            in the aftermath of a delayed flight
            that lingers listlessly over an ocean.

            Liked by 1 person


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