The story behind this poem: a friend in Pennsylvania found these headstones in the woods. From the dates, these were two and a half century old graves of children. I thought about those long-ago families, grieving a loss in a very human way, even though it happened much more back then. It seemed to want a haiku, somehow.

Grave also means solemn. Still means ‘and yet.’ Still also means ‘quiet,’ and here, I want to use both meanings.

How beautiful, and as Kate said, poignant. We need to let ourselves grieve in our own ways, and words shared do seem to help. I've tried a grief group once, and enjoyed that everyone was sharing on the same emotion, but I've not gone back.

Thank you Sylvia, and your haiku suits the photograph well. Your later comments brought it to life.

Ah yes. I remember being in an old cemetary years ago and seeing a grave stone for a 3 year old boy. Aside from his name, and the dates, it said "Our Darling". Tears.

Very lovely, thoughtful words