by Sandra Bounds

When my mother died,
a dutiful Southern daughter,
I wept,
but I felt no real sorrow.
Truthfully, only sheer relief.
Her life had been a struggle,
arduous and trying.
How could I be sad?
Death puts an end to struggles
and brings enduring peace.
Why then am I heir
to such remorse and guilt?

Sandra Bounds was born in Mississippi and lives in Macon. She has a Master of Arts in English and has taught in both high school and community college. An active member of the Mississippi Poetry Society, she was its 2005 Poet of the Year, and the society published a chapbook of her poetry to honor that selection. She has won many awards in contests sponsored by the society and has been published in such journals as Art Gulf Coast, The Lyric, The Road Not Taken, Sharing, The Well-Tempered Sonnet and Westward Quarterly. Read her former poems published in Deep South here.

Literary Friday, Edi
  • Robert / May 25, 2014

    Right on.

  • Penny Nichols / May 29, 2014

    Your mother, my grandmother….I remember so many wonderful things about my Gram. I am glad too that her suffering ended. She did have a hard life but she did it all for family and the deep and abiding love for us no matter how hard times were. Remember the metal tub we bathed in? She made me those wonderful biscuits with slab cheese melted into them. I am sorry that I was not a better granddaughter – the eldest, but never the best – always too busy. Regrets have I. God bless you Lucille.

  • Jude / June 10, 2014

    In the church yard where my parents rest, I can stand at their plot and look across the rows and see the first row in the yard. The one with the oldest plots, some unmarked. In that first row are my great great grandparents. The middle rows include my grandparents and great grandparents and many more of my kin, their neighbors and their friends, eternally at rest. In these rows of peace, I take courage. The rows hearten me and I pray to struggle so well. God bless you, Sandra Bounds.

  • Jo Franklin / April 24, 2015

    This is a wonderful poem about a true southern woman. She gave of herself to her friends and her children and asked nothing in return. It takes one a long time to so deeply appreciate her selflessness and know how very much she loved all of us. She is often in my thoughts.