The Family Cemetery
By Rev. Lonnie C. Crowe
On the sesquicentennial of the first burial,
Auntie took us to the stone-walled family cemetery.
As the western sky reddened into purple,
Amidst the flickering fireflies,
She shared the humanity of those resting
In the darkening hillside.
She remembered her Josiah
And traced her fingers over the stone
Already etched in her honor.
The children whispered,
The owls questioned,
And Auntie sat calmly upon her tombstone
And watched the fireflies dance.
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