A Pauper’s Grave

“The Grave Rests On A Knoll”

It seemed as a child the roles were
reversed, I became a mother
and she the child, flighty and nervous
and addicted to coffee, she was neurotic
and unable to care for her child.
Growing up I had to learn to fend for
myself, I resented the heavy responsibility.
She left us for days at a time. Not until
much later, did I realize when she had
shared through the years she had been
a victim of child abuse, and the damaging
effects it had done to her.
She did the best she
could have is my guess. She had
definite ideas and one of them was a
strange and mysterious one, which
I don’t really know where it had come
from, but she demanded she be
buried in a pauper’s grave, threatening
if we cremated her she would haunt

A little poem I’ve written concerning
this strange request

On the north side of the
graveyard lot, lies a

pauper’s plot

saved for the indigent

and lost

only green moss grows on this

spot where the sun

is naught

the crow flies high in the

eastern sky and the

sparrow sits on her nest in

the tree top high

a creek flows below and the

grave rests on a knoll

to the left of this plot a man

hoes and digs for the

next coffer’s hole

not a flower lays upon

this mound nor sound of song is


he sleeps hard and long till

the final day when he is

taken away

on the east side of the lot a
church steeple shines

it’s light driving the shadows away

both night and day

on the pauper’s plot

where he lay in a grave

he had not bought!

My mother insisted on being buried in a

pauper’s plot and of course we did not!

Read more at: www.donnaspoetry.com

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