Poetry / Poets

My Friend Said She Doesn’t Bother to Take Flowers to Her Parents’ Grave Anymore and Those I Take are All Artificial

The Babylonian dead needed food
and drink, too, though only a little.
The families must provide it
as surely as their babies
must be succored. Some
of King Ammisaduqa’s soldiers
died for him, had careless kin
who placed nothing on the ground
to nourish their dead.
The king’s heart was troubled
for those truly lost souls.
The family meal, kispa,
brought all descendents together,
but Ammisaduqa spread the feast
beyond lineal bonds.
Where blood was spilled on dry earth,
there he spread his charity,
an ancient gift shining
from tales scratched out
on the hard tablets of history.

By Carol Hamilton

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One thought on “My Friend Said She Doesn’t Bother to Take Flowers to Her Parents’ Grave Anymore and Those I Take are All Artificial

  1. Carol Hamilton has recent and upcoming publications in ATLANTA REVIEW, NEW LAUREL REVIEW, TRIBECA POETRY REVIEW, POET LORE, CONNECTICUT RIVER REVIEW, TAR RIVER REVIEW, GREEN HILLS LITERARY LANTERN, POEM, IBBETSON STREET, WILLOW REVIEW, DERONDA REVIEW, RED RIVER REVIEW, ECLECTIC MUSE, RED ROCK REVIEW, MAIN STREET RAG, IBBETSON STREET, U.S. WORKSHEET, FLINT HILLS REVIEW and others. She has been nominated five times for a Pushcart Prize. She has published 16 books of children’s novels, legends and poetry, most recently, MASTER OF THEATER: PETER THE GREAT and LEXICOGRAPHY. She is a former Poet Laureate of Oklahoma.

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