Souls of Potter’s Field (Hart Island NY)

Now you rest.
Eternally marked
Are the places they slept.
The hot summers
And cold winters
They endured,
But were forgotten
In death.
May roses grow 
In the places they wept;
Weathered bodies,
Weary minds,
And heavy breaths.
You are memorialized.
Oh what pain to see
Life through your eyes:
The illness and affliction;
The cries.
Nameless no more 
On that peaceful stream 
With the dawn of 
The morning sun
They rise —

You are loved; you are thought of.

Behind the Scenes Photos on Hart Island, NYC’s Mass Burial Ground