Based on Antigone by Sophocles

Dear woman at the grave…
     You fling dirt
     So sporadically
     So obsessively
     I do believe you make an art of it
     This showcase of grief
     This display of defiance
     Would they have done as much?
     Dug until their fingers bled?
     Patted the earth softly on top of you?

Dear woman at the grave…
     Do you know you dig your own?
     Your father’s eyeless head haunts you still
     Perhaps you wish for blindness too?
     Maybe a greedier heart to evoke
     Some preservation of self?
     A child born from curses and deception
     Can hardly hope to last
     And you know this

Dear woman at the grave…
     Take care and remember those hearts still alive
     The ones who will not last long without you
     I do believe you have forgotten
     The kinder emotions while executing
     Your duty for the dead
     Recall love in your lust for justice

Dear woman at the grave…
     You are so much yourself
     There is no point in interference
     I do believe your thoughts are clear
     A mind coerced by chants of repeated demands
     Your limbs must follow
     Bury my brother
     Bury myself
     Bury the bane of this blood

Dear woman at the grave…
     How little you think of your actions
     How ignorant you are to the spinning wheel
     Of legacy
     How blind you yourself have become
     To the violent act
     Of flinging dirt on bone


By Kallen Mohr

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