I saw this photo on Facebook in The Stafford Challenge group. I was struck by the way Kevin Nusser caught the sun atop a steeple. This photo mused him to write on an old typewriter. Here is a photo of his poem.
I often think about how poetry begets more poetry. Billy Collins points this out in his poem “The Trouble with Poetry”. Can you find inspiration in the photo, the words? Perhaps steal a line and write a golden shovel. I believe the world can never have too much poetry.
How many times will we
Margaret Simon, draft
face death, wonder who are
the ones we’ll lose? If I’m lucky, I won’t lose all
my people before I go. As long as living
keeps you here, I won’t have to carry our
losses alone. I can live a wild life.
Please join me and write. If you choose, share your draft in the comments. Please leave encouraging responses to others.
Reflections on the Teche 
Poetry DOES beget poetry! I like your thoughtful golden shovel, Margaret. Carrying losses alone is quite a burden. Kevin Nusser’s photo is a unique view of a cemetery. I offer the first line that came into my head:
How still we see thee lie,
Tended by strangers,
Unnoticed by most
Except for a few passersby.
Jane Heitman Healy, draft
The line “tended by strangers” stands out to me. I don’t visit cemeteries very often, and as I pass, I often wonder about who keeps them tended.
The line “How still we still thee lie” reminds me of the peace of Bethlehem associated with that carol.
Tended by strangers is a striking line. Think of the grave of an infant, tended in life by a loving family, now watched over by strangers. Or the grave of a spouse, so cherished, now cared for by strangers.
Comfort and sadness blend in that line.
Thank you, Margaret, Rose, and Diane, for your insightful comments.
You inspired me to write a golden shovel as well, Margaret. I really like how you start yours with a question. I wasn’t able to bold the last line, but you will recognize the line in Nusser’s poem.
Morning Star
look how the sun presides over all
nature’s wonders, over all of
our comings and goings, guiding us
with warmth lit
from within and without by
the way we follow the light
I love how the photo and the line worked in harmony to give you this lovely and loving perspective.
The light stands out in the photograph. And your Golden Shovel.
Rose, I love the idea of the sun presiding!
The words of your poem touched me…that question How many times? is haunting when you’ve already lost family members and close friends… and you do pray that you won’t lose all your people before you go.
On the brighter side: the world can never have too much poetry!!
Here’s my poem:
Lighting the Way
Sun and steeple
Beacons of life
Even here-
Walking these paths,
Breathing in quiet,
Surrounded by
Memorials
These ancestors
Have wisdom
To share
They left it behind
In epitaphs, history,
Family stories-
Memories
I like what you did with the words memorials and memories.
Diane, I like how you contrast the living and the dead–and the living parts of the dead: the stories & memories.
I like thinking of life even in a cemetery as your poem’s opening suggests.
life spins: basketball
teetering on a finger
cemetery shadows
Kim, I almost missed your little poem. “Teetering on a finger” is how it feels sometimes. We just don’t know. It’s hard to realize this and yet live fully. Thanks for sharing your poem.
Kim, you packed a whole world into 3 lines! I love it.
Your poem is so beautiful. I love the extra message in the ending words of each line. I’m new to writing poetry so this is a style I’d like to experiment with! Thanks for providing inspiration.