“tombstones make macabre lawn ornaments, coffins are the worst kind of patio furniture”
i saw my parents’ grave marker
twice…at saint ann’s on oak street.
once at my mother’s funeral,
and again at my father’s.
memory assures me
that they once lived.
their names etched in stone
remind me that they are gone.
i can’t imagine being there
when i’m not miserable.
About the poet Bill Campana
Bill Campana’s poem “tombstones make macabre lawn ornaments, coffins are the worst kind of patio furniture” is a raw and contemplative meditation on loss and the weight of memory. In just a few stark lines, Campana recounts the haunting experience of encountering his parents’ grave markers. The poem underscores how memory keeps alive the reality of their existence, even as their names etched in stone serve as a constant reminder of their absence. Ultimately, the poet reveals a poignant truth: his capacity to feel whole and content is intricately tied to the depths of his grief.
Discover more about Bill Campana’s journey as a poet and performer on his full bio page HERE.
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