OneMomTalking: Poem

I wrote this months ago, trying to give words to what I was seeing happen to my son as he lived in active addiction.  Praise God, he is still clean, a month out of rehab.  I am thankful!

Grave Digger
by OneMomTalking

So many people
gone wrong.
Their songs become the songs 
of grave  diggers.

One shovel
     for the death of a grandmother.
One shovel
     for father’s disapproval, one
for mother’s inability
     to move forward
     when the marriage failed.
One for the drugs he did last weekend, and now 

He keeps digging
     because he doesn’t recall
     how not to dig.
His song is the song
     of a Grave Digger:
     the low baritone chant
     of a gaunt and gray

And the rain begins to fall.
And the rain begins to fall.
One shovel of dirt for the timing
of the rain.

The funeral
     is a long way off.
But the grave:
     always at the ready.

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