What do you hold...
Still deep in the ground...
Memories of loved ones...
Whose lives did abound...

All living around...
Near big Greenleaf creek...
How often I wish...
I could hear them speak...

Of a different life...
In years gone by...
How good it would be...
I think with a sigh...

I found you today...
I guess in a sense..
Found old rusted hinges...
and part of a fence...

Holes that were dug...
Along time ago..
Moving the cemetery...
That was said had to go..

I found a small grave...
Somehow overlooked...
High on a bank...
Above a small brook...

That ran into Greenleaf...
Creek at the bend...
I wondered perhaps...
Some of my kin...

I'd heard Aunt Moot...
Tell of the days...
When ones that were left...
Still in the graves...

High on the bank...
Right by the creek...
Babies were buried...
So precious and meek...

Some were not moved...
Along with the rest...
Somehow I feel...
That maybe 'twas best...

I've looked for you...
Cemetery of old...
Name of McCracken...
Is what I was told...

December Ninety Seven...
Found at last...
A piece of the puzzle...
Now fits in my past...