Dug deep the shaft, the hush, a grave, a weight
On shoulders strong. A shovel shoves away
The ground where shoes have stood so long. A man
And woman, shut in shadows, black, negate.
Chip and chip the shovel goes to heart
And soul. And shallow shapes of human trunks
Collect around the hole. Together-lone
They watch and see a child and parents part.
But through them all there runs a silver rope,
Connecting heart to heart, creating wholes
Not holes in empty human souls. One tear
Of thanks among the stream of grief gives hope.
And every hand that touches him or her
And every desperate smile lifts the silent weight.