The Preacher Preached
by Bruce Campbell Walters
The preacher preached.
I made no sense
Of anything he said.
My eyes as though not eyes of mine
Witnessed things unreal
As Charlotte, paler than before,
Was lowered toward the ground.
All night long the cold rain fell,
Invading Charlotte’s grave.
And in an hour most dark,
Charlotte as a Spirit came
Translucent to our home,
But came not for a view of me
But came to see her child,
Little David.
David Arthur Walters 