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"Oh, how we loved them." ©

Nancy Purves
Calgary, Canada
2003

When I was young and chanced to pass by
old cemeteries;
I often stopped to read about
old people,
or rather the people of olden days,
for few were old who rested there.
How poignant the dates below the names;
mothers and babes passing days apart
brought compassionate tears to my youthful heart
and three children had died, all within weeks;
some flu no doubt, that passed each to each.
A cry from the heart etched in worn stone
still causes me many an inward groan.
"Oh, how we loved them." was all that it said
but that eloquent cry was engraved in my head.


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