As a Catholic of sorts, the ritual of grave sweeping seems noticeable. My elders are buried in a cemetery called The Gate of Heaven. Babe Ruth has a plot here. My late uncle who was a veteran as well as an IBM employee rests in the Armed Forces section.
We, elders, are lining up to take our places at our own gravesites. Some will be in backyards, nestled near the woods or the creek. Others, have applications in at the nearby Veterans’ Cemetery.
O, yes we do. Some of us in the only way we know how--with instinctive and ancestral memory--assimilation having stolen the "real deal". Some of us only know bits and fragments we "hear" from our ancestors and glean from the stories our parent told us, search the words for the NDN in them. But the grave keeping is in the putting together of it to have meaning. Thank you for the beautiful poem.
Love the sense instilled in me here of the endless unfolding of birth and rebirth and the looking both back and forward; the continuity of the birth of new life and that other birth which is the living with the memory of and revering of the lives that connect you to the earth. Wonderful images or the reordering of the grave sites.
This one hits home, Sherman. Since my beloved wife of almost 48 years passed in March, I have made many visits to her gravesite. It is interesting to see the number of people who come to honor their dead and spend time cleaning and caring for the graves. To me, it is a beautiful tribute to our beloved ancestors.
As a Catholic of sorts, the ritual of grave sweeping seems noticeable. My elders are buried in a cemetery called The Gate of Heaven. Babe Ruth has a plot here. My late uncle who was a veteran as well as an IBM employee rests in the Armed Forces section.
I'm loving this from the frontline.
We, elders, are lining up to take our places at our own gravesites. Some will be in backyards, nestled near the woods or the creek. Others, have applications in at the nearby Veterans’ Cemetery.
SHERMAN ALEXIE GRACIAS
Beautiful
Your poems are a kind of salve for the soul. At least for me.
O, yes we do. Some of us in the only way we know how--with instinctive and ancestral memory--assimilation having stolen the "real deal". Some of us only know bits and fragments we "hear" from our ancestors and glean from the stories our parent told us, search the words for the NDN in them. But the grave keeping is in the putting together of it to have meaning. Thank you for the beautiful poem.
yes
GRAC IAS GENERACIONES SHERMAN ALEXIE
"Life doesn't end when life ends". Beautiful and thank you.
No one likes being the oldest. Unless, as they say, you consider the alternative : ) Thank you Sherman for this fine poem
Love the sense instilled in me here of the endless unfolding of birth and rebirth and the looking both back and forward; the continuity of the birth of new life and that other birth which is the living with the memory of and revering of the lives that connect you to the earth. Wonderful images or the reordering of the grave sites.
This really touched me this morning. Having just become a septuagenarian ( how I love that word!) it hits home.
dear sherman,
this is so beautiful.
i particularly love this:
"life doesn't end
when life ends."
thank you for sharing!
much love,
myq
This one hits home, Sherman. Since my beloved wife of almost 48 years passed in March, I have made many visits to her gravesite. It is interesting to see the number of people who come to honor their dead and spend time cleaning and caring for the graves. To me, it is a beautiful tribute to our beloved ancestors.
descendants— the ones who'll clean our graves. A sign of respect for sure.