Wreaths

    by Kate Van Pelt DeLoach

It’s Christmas Eve and it’s 70 degrees –

unseasonably warm even for here.

I walk the dogs at Andersonville Cemetery,

where the graves are adorned with wreaths,

the trees are stark and the sky is white.

It has rained for two days and nights and

everything is wet. The smell of pine needles

wafts as we pass.

I see an old woman approaching

the slick embankment, a cane in one hand,

a wreath in the other. Another

grave adorned, a life bereaved.

Was it her lover? Her grandfather?

I think I should offer her a hand, but don’t.

The little dogs would jump on her,

tangle leashes with legs.

We leave her with her grief – or duty –

the moss-tinted marble does not

know the difference.

© 2015  Kate Van Pelt DeLoach

Kate Van Pelt DeLoach is from Virginia Beach, Va., and currently lives in Andersonville, Ga., with her husband, several horses, dogs and a barn cat. She is a freelance writer, editor and graphic designer; she also publishes a local newsletter, Kudzu Weekly.