It turns out I could learn to love the word poignant. Enough said. This unrelated image, by the way, is from an article in The Daily Mail about the "new face of grief" in England and how politicians are trying to eliminate it. So, two offerings. The article's url follows the poem. I hope I'm not confusing with independent yet related things.
SONG FOR DEAD CHILDREN
We set great wreaths of brightness on the graves of the passionate
who required tribute of hot July flowers—
for you, O brittle-hearted, we bring offering
remembering how your wrists were thin and your delicate bones
not yet braced for conquering.
The sharp cries of ghost-boys are keen above the meadows,
and little girls continue graceful and wondering.
Flickering evening on the lakes recalls those young
heirs whose developing years have sunk to earth,
their strength not tested, their praise unsung.
Weave grasses for their childhood—who will never see
love or disaster or take sides against decay
balancing the choices of maturity.
Silent and coffined in silence while we pass
loud in defiance of death, the helpless lie.
BY Muriel Rukeyser, from The Collected Poems of Muriel Rukesyer.
The Daily Mail article is here: "Modern face of mourning: The colourful 'poundland' shrines across Britain that councils are trying to wipe out"