With Bated Breath
Walking up the winding path
inside the cemetery where my family is buried;
the path leads me through the oldest parts, and I recall
haunted stories of childhood.
Breathless, I walk faster and whisper a prayer;
another turn, then another, oh am I lost!
Turning around in circles- I see through trees the sun;
even the hushed angels sigh for me as quickly I walk
down a path familiar- finding my family tomb.
Butterflies dance and twirl, and
reaching branches of willows drape the stone;
everything is still and quiet, even though birds sing, oh
a red rose in my hand is now wilted dead;
the words engraved I now read with bated breath, I remember
happy blissful memories and sadly, too soon deaths.
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August 21, 2019
Poetry/Acrostic/With Bated Breath
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1174-813-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Pick A Title, Vol. 8 - Acrostic
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Title Chosen #5, With Bated Breath
Second Place
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