Dear Samantha Green

Dear Samantha Green, 

Lying in repose in a cemetery

Guarded by a red oak tree, 

Planted by an Indian chief to honor

His lost daughter who died in the pursuit of love, 

How would you feel

To find out that locusts crawl

Among the bouquets of petunia and rose

Placed to honor your kin?

 

How would you feel

To find out that the wrought iron fence, 

Once shiny and new, 

Built to protect your grave from defilers

Has since rusted and decayed? 

 

How would you feel 

To find out that your grave, 

Made of the finest marble

When you died eighty-six years ago

And engraved with your name, 

Your date of birth, the date you passed away, 

Has faded into dark and moss-covered stone

And water is needed to wipe away

The collected dirt and grime of eighty-six years

And reveal the secrets of your name? 

 

How would you feel

To find out that the American flags

That fluttered in the breeze on the day of your funeral

Now lie in the dirt on this hot summer's day,

Tattered and in pieces after the trampling of

Eighty-six long, long years? 

 

How would you feel

To find out that the trees, 

Planted in the cemetary to provide shade, 

A momentary relief from the blazing summer sun, 

Have overgrown, their roots growing unabated

On top of the sacred space that contains

Your grave, and their branches have obscured

Your name, your date of birth, the date you passed away, 

Having fallen on your gravestone, undisturbed? 

 

How would you feel, Samantha? 

How would you feel? 

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world

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