Waterdog, you brought up a good point. It is my feeling that everyone should write about what they see and feel at times. Especially, when it comes to recording family history. There has so many gone before us that we know very little about. There are so many things in our daily life that worth putting to pen. My mother died when I was born and the only way I could know her was through others who knew her. I am so thankful I have recorded the things she did and the person she was. The only person now who knew her is now 96 years young and can not speak. This brings to mind another poem I wrote sometime ago.


A Small Broken Stone

On a cool late autumn day
The wind swirled across the lake
In ever changing patterns of blinding silver
Along a leafless horizon
Across the fortuitous water
Thick gray clouds began to mask the sun
Leaving only streaks of golden rays
As I began to walk down a well-worn path
One by one leaves of color blew pass me
I could sense a change to winter coming
For a moment I paused to look upward
At the thick gray clouds moving quickly overhead
When I looked down to move on
It was at that moment
Under an old cedar tree
My eyes fell upon a small broken stone
Through the fallen leaves
Lying decumbent upon the ground
I could see a stone with carved lettering
As I knelt down to get a closer look
The following words revealed
“Baby Sarah 1847”
The abandonment of this small broken stone
Lying so contemptuous upon the ground
Affected me profoundly
Who was she
How did her stone get here
Where did her stone belong
Who failed as caretaker
Who knows how many stones in time
Lie broken, lost, and forgotten
Only God

Roy L. Nave
November, 2012