The following is a poem I wrote for a creative writing class. This post’s graveyard photo was taken from pixabay.
Family Plot
By Sarah Locksley
She’s taking everyone she’d
ever loved to her grave.
Great-granny’s pearl earrings white
against her lobes, her parents’ smiles
securely held within the locket
at her throat.
The name “Squiggles” engraved
upon the cold, silver bracelet
about her wrist – a gift
from Robert upon the passing
of her darling feline.
Through her fingers
a rosary twines,
the smooth, yellow beads carved
from the bones of her faithful hound,
the attached white and grey
scrap of fur, the foot
of rabbit Ted.
Once Squiggles’ prey, Snap
lives on as the flaky
snakeskin purse resting beneath
liver-spotted fingers,
its contents Granddaddy’s
tarnished pocket watch
and a prayer book from
cousin Ginny, who had always
been more like a sister.
Still lips curve slightly
as she lays upon her silken bed,
far from alone in that casket
bearing fifteen.
In her hair, a pearl barrette
fashioned from the baby teeth
of her living son; the tattoo
on her shoulder listing the names
of the three she’d lost.
Her devoted husband’s
blood, mahogany red in the vial
nestled between her breasts
as he himself had loved to be.
And on her wedding finger
a ring,
the original diamond long since
replaced by one made by
heating and compressing
a lock of hair covertly
harvested from the head
of Brad Pitt
– the man she loved but never met.
