a gravedigger’s requiem/Faith Toutant

Her mandible cushioned safely in the palms of my hands
Held ever so safe preserving the fragility of her past
Necrophagic insects spewing from her vacant eye sockets
Terrorized by the uprooting of her skeleton while
The half dug grave halts in operation 

                                                              Who was this jane doe accidentally undug? 
                                                           If a body is unknowingly buried in a cemetery 
                                                                             And never found, did it even exist?
                                                                                                    What do we do now?
                                                                             Rebury the bones stumbled upon?
                                                                      Are we damned for unveiling this soul?

Brittle decayed hair matting together as if pulled from a shower drain
Covering the skull that once served to protect her life but
Now deteriorated into unidentifiable bones and left without a trace
A hidden treasure chest of a jane doe buried six feet below

                                                                  When did a death become another routine?
                                                                                       Like bathing or brushing teeth?
                                          Am I to blame for eternal oblivion of the dead I lay to rest?
                                                                 Where was I when jane doe’s life was taken?
                                                                Was I merely a child or an unknown concept?
                                                 What am I doing in the moments of my clients’ death?

Day after day the reality of a graveyard worker ceases to exist
Dead bodies become mannequins
Their humanity stripped completely
Every weeping mother that falls to her knees
Clinging to the gravestone where her child now spends eternity 
Slowly, it chips away at my emotionless facade

Faith Toutant is an Elementary Education major from Negaunee, Michigan. Her inspiration for this poem was drawn from her summer job where she works at a cemetery. Outside of writing and working, you can find Faith at the softball field or enjoying the outdoors.