Sea of Grass
by Sherry Russo
by Sherry Russo
My son’s grave sits
on a sea of grass
in line with other graves
like a row of rocks
sitting on the distant shore.
Trees abound giving shade
while the wind blows.
Shade that never comforts
anyone above the grass,
except for the birds
who make their home.
A sea of grass
so calm, so serene
were it a park or a garden.
Although it is,
albeit a different one
where peace never comes.
Only sadness and a heavy heart
to be reminded of
how dead my son is
buried 6 feet underground.
08.02.11
1635
:::
about the poem.
I wrote this to express how I feel about the cemetery. 2 1/2 years into my loss, and I still can't accept that I have to go there to visit my son. It's painful being there and it triggers so many emotions. Thoughts and feelings that I manage to compartmentalize so I can move on with my life and be the best mother I can be for my two living children. As much as I hate the place, I still visit on a regular basis, out of obligation and out of love. - Sherry
about the poet.
Sherry describes herself, "I have been married for 10 years to a wonderful husband, a mother of three, one in heaven. Our world was forever changed when our twin babies were born at 28 1/2 weeks due to an incompetent cervix. Our twin baby boy Brandon died shortly after birth from complications of a collapsed lung, and Sophia stayed in the NICU for 48 days. I mostly write about Brandon and my journey in this world without him. It's the only thing I have that's devoted to him. It helps me heal, while keeping his memory alive." Sherry blogs at Remembering Brandon.
Sherry describes herself, "I have been married for 10 years to a wonderful husband, a mother of three, one in heaven. Our world was forever changed when our twin babies were born at 28 1/2 weeks due to an incompetent cervix. Our twin baby boy Brandon died shortly after birth from complications of a collapsed lung, and Sophia stayed in the NICU for 48 days. I mostly write about Brandon and my journey in this world without him. It's the only thing I have that's devoted to him. It helps me heal, while keeping his memory alive." Sherry blogs at Remembering Brandon.
I'm sort of the opposite. I love where Hope is buried and find it to be beautiful and peaceful, yet I never go. And I can't quite put my finger on why. I don't really feel she is there. I feel very empty when I am. I go because I think I have to. But like you, I wish I didn't.
ReplyDeleteLoved your piece.
xo
I love this piece also. I want to read more of your writing. "like a row of rocks on a distant shore", I feel that distance also whenever I visit at the cemetery. I wish he was sleeping quietly in the first bedroom up the hall tonight.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful poem. Such a lovely, serene opening and such a sad conclusion. I'm very sorry for the loss of your son, Brandon.
ReplyDeleteThe balance of the peace and the brutality is exactly what it is. I love my daughter's burial place but I still hate that she has one. Thank you.
ReplyDelete