The mill on the hill sat still
No rustle of wind blew it into movemnt
And still there was one who sat below it
Hoping for any signs of life
She sat and he sat icolted form all others
Her life was lonely but she had never felt connection
As the mill was all that she had.
It was all that they loved.
All that she cherished
All that consumed her waking hours.
But it was dead.
She would never see the turning of its blades through the coll clean mountain air
No note of life would ever be audible form the blades of his creation
It was all that she had.
And it was gone