Originally published in February, 2012 on this blog:
Poem at the Lake
The poem seems familiar
As I read the metal plate
On which it’s written
On the back of a park bench
Beside the duck-filled lake.
I add the numbers twice
To get it right
1993-2000 equals seven
2008 – would make him fifteen
When he died.
“We love you, Dylan”
Printed below the verse.
The family I do not know
Nor the story behind the young death,
But as a human I make up stories,
As a woman my eyes fill with tears,
As a Mother I feel a searing pain.
Connie Wesala 