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 anymore. 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.
THE BALLAD OF BETSY LAYNE 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.) |
And here is another: "Uncle Bob's Empire."
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