Burying Your Child

If the whole of life is a stream

Then burying your child follows the spring melt

You are a stone tossed into the middle

As the waves blow passed

Uncaring, unknowing

Without opportunity to catch your breath

You are pushed on but never moved

There is no end in sight

Just a steady stream of life flowing around you

Unaware, unknowing

At the bottom of the stream

Cold and gasping for breath

Your tears are mingled with life

that passes you by

Unfeeling, unwitting


Copyright Duane Windell Phillips May 2015