How many mothers
have walked down
the sandstone steps
from our hospital
overlooking townwith babies in their arms
singing silent songs of joy
for what they were holding
for the sun to see
and for all of us unseen
who welcomed their replenishing?
For not far from there,
were it not for trees,
a thin black thread of cars
can oft be seen
inching its way
up steep Main Street's slope
to that quiet lonely acre
unevenly studded
with tilted weathering stones.
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