I see that tiny cross
every day as I drive by
a little wooden monument
of a lonely place to die
The tire marks still remain
etched upon the street
children are now motherless
as she lies beneath their feet
A husband who had it all
just spends his time alone
explaining to his children
that their mommy can't come home
She lived just up the road
and although we never spoke
sadness filled the neighborhood
when the tragic story broke
Her family placed a marker
at that fateful site
And it catches my attention
each and every night
Its a tribute to a her memory
and a symbol of great loss
a reminder of our mortality
sometimes I hate that cross.
26 comments:
Beautiful. Tragic, but beautiful.
dude...you are cutting in on my poetry action...haha...somber, as it should be...those crosses are vivid reminders...particularly if you knew them....
Ah! Nicely done!
And... I noticed you added the song Jar of Hearts.
Me likey.
*grin*
Hey! remember when I tried to start Rhyming Wednesdays about two years ago and no one played along? lol
a tragic story and beautiful tribute.
Otin, wow this is sad...and those crosses are rough to see...kids without their Momma? Breaks my heart.
Welcome back...great poem.
so when are you writing another Brotin Tale?
i tried using another name but you took that option away...lol
Hiya .. such a terrible tragedy. This was a beautiful poem Otin a lovely tribute to life cut way too short. My heart goes out to the family.
I really like your sentimental heart. Seeing the cross each day would do the same thing to me. What a horrible thing for the family.
Those crosses represent sadness for a family. very nicely said, Otin
Lovely poem, Otin, and so nice to see you back! Missed you.
We have such crosses alongside some of our roads here too. And I always wonder about those left behind... Sometimes there are fresh flowers placed there for a long time.
Otin, welcome back, my friend. It's good to see you back on here. Have a nice weekend.
Otie!!!
Those little crosses are painful to see. Where my sister died, there is a cross in the grassy median (ditch) where her Hummer rolled a few times before it came to a stop. They also wrapped flowers and the cord of her microphone around it. When I lived in Florida, it was always breath-holding, lump-in-the-throat moments for a mile before and a mile after it. At once lovely and brutal.
I remember rhyming Wednesday!
I see these crosses far too often myself. So sad - especially knowing that most of these accidents don't have to happen. :(
Hauntingly beautiful. I see so many of these crosses on our travels.
So sad! We have a couple near our home that I see every time I'm out. Yes...always harder when you knew them!
Who knew you had such heart? Nicely done!
Welcome back!
This is a lovely poem, very sad, but I know exactly how you feel when you see a cross along side the road.
jj
Hi there friend. You haven't lost your touch. Sadly, there are several of these markers around here too.
a beautiful tribute to your neighbor.
Makes me ache.
hello otin, beautiful poem, a poet sees.
I always wonder as I pass the wreaths and crosses placed at intersections and lonely stretches of road. Who died here and who still remembers?
Those crosses are always so sad. We even saw some in Europe.
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