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Two Poems
by Sandi Keaton-Wilson


          There are more ways
          to lose someone
          than to a casket in the ground.
          Ways, too, that hurt just as much—
          maybe worse.
          There is no ceremony
          for separation
          of two people who’ve lost
          what once they found,
          or have still, but
          feel it isn’t enough

          No one brings over pies, chicken,
          or loaf bread, sends fresh flowers,
          comforting cards or sits
          up with you all night handing
          you a hanky or just holding you.

          There ought to be a funeral
          for failures, a natural nurturing
          for lonely losers
          who’ve known to have
          and to have not…
          A time to grieve and get it over with,
          feel it, deal with it, put it down,
          bury it deep and believe
          in something better
          instead of standing by
          an open grave
          near a hearse that never leaves.



          In a county called Floyd
          Near a place called Betsy Layne
          Run the trains to the coalmines
          Everyday the route’s the same.

          Folks around still remember
          Those old tales from many years
          Of tragedy that happened
          Bringing mourning moans and tears.

          A lovely local lady
          Met her death upon the rails;
          Some heard the engine's whistle,
          Others said it was her wails.

          They spoke of love and passion
          Causing jealousy and rage;
          Rumors were of old revenge
          For crimes felt still unpaid.

          Why she wanders that dread place
          Remains mystery today,
          For her essence yet lingers
          Not able to pass away.

          If in darkness you go there
          Dare upon the railroad track,
          Look oft’ over your shoulder
          Someone walks behind your back…

          For she as though an angel
          In illuminated form—
          As sure as life and dying
          Watches, keeps you safe from harm.

          (Winner of Kentucky State Poetry Society 2nd place in Kentucky Mountain Ballad 2004 and based on area folklore.)

About Sandi Keaton-Wilson

BIO: Sandi Keaton-Wilson is a writer of poetry, prose and plays from Somerset, Kentucky. She enjoys keeping tradition and dialect alive in her written and spoken works. Credits include Now & Then, Appalachia Journal, Ideals and Writers' Journal. Her most recent success is her play’s (BOUNDARIES) staged reading in New York City during summer, 2007. Read more of Sandi's award winning poems HERE.

USADEEPSOUTH publishes the work of a number of talented Deep South poets. Click to read one of Terry Everett's beautiful poems, "In April Somewhere in the South."
And here is another: "Uncle Bob's Empire."


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