The settting of this poem is Merryall Cemetery, located in Bradford County, Wyalusing, Pennsylvania. The curious, if not ironic name derives from land purchased from Warrum Kingsley in 1788 by Thomas Lewis, a soldier in Washington’s Continental Army, and who fought in the Siege of Ft. Ticonderoga in July, 1777. Following the war, Lewis settled there, and christened the place Merryall.* As my small family now boasts a happy connection to the area, I was goaded to compose a poem, both with reference to that, and to all the people of that storied region of our country.
*Much more concerning the history of Wyalusing, PA may be found at the following excellent link, edited by Ms. Joyce M. Tice… The History of Bradford County, PA.
This morning water from the creek
in steady flowing voice
murmured with the crickets of approval,
the sun not yet warm upon the banks,
the grass and moss nodding with the dew;
and scattered birds were few upon the wing,
Tehotachsee and Cayuga gone so long,
their voices on the wind departed
with the other travelers that share
my shoulder and my thoughts.
The creek meanders but slightly changed
against those times that have no name
except the ones resting in the water,
converging there in Wyalusing and Susquehanna.
Just down the trace upon a gentle track
from center-town a scant mile distant
sits the resting ground that’s said
to be a happy place where no one but
the dead are laughing.
Before the stones that weather with
the wind and rain and snow,
I cannot know them as they were
nor as they are,
though we are one in space and time,
my hands upon the granite overhead,
their souls upon the wind
that blows upon my brow,
the sweet creek flowing still,
I think of all that moves
and those that cannot move again.
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