Along the Highway

Along the Highway

By Carolyn Riggs

Along the highway, driving so fast
        Not many know of the graveyard passed.
The ocean of grasses growing high
        Sere, thorny, brown and dry.
Here no poppies golden hue
        No lovely lupins royal blue
The marble stone is broken apart
        It makes the viewer sick at heart.
Oh, ye Pioneer of an early day
        If you could have a word to say
Would cry: For shame; for shame
        As vandals desecrate the names
Of Ansley, Rodgers, Praster & Paine
        Cooley, Moffitt, Morse, Romine.
Many others in row and plot
        Lie asleep in the cemetery lot.
Come, let us gather, one and all
        With hoe, shovel, rake and mawl,
To try to clear as best we can
        The ravages of time and man!

By Carolyn Riggs
June 18, 1958