THE DIG:

I unearth your very small & such delicate head,

Now releasing you, from your deep earthen bed,

I peer into gone eyes, of worm devoured sockets,

Seeking past answers, from sightless vacant pockets.

 

Are you really she, who once walked upon this earth?

She who loved, laughed & long ago, once gave birth,

She who once smiled & with your flesh well rounded,

She who was once so vital & with life, so abounded.

 

I touch your delicate & now nameless small bones,

With a blessing & a prayer, I return you back home,

Beneath soil´s clay loam, within cemetery’s dark hole,

All your being interred, except your perfect small soul.