A woman clad in black
A red rose in her hand
Curls about her shoulders
Memories move like sand.
The cemetary in March coldness
Bright sun but cold, cold breeze
The crematorium it beckons
Amidst the swaying trees.
Husband, father lover
Now crushed leaves beneath her feet
The silence in her ears
Destiny now to meet.
As if within a bubble
She walks toward the door
To take her front row seat
A final farewell nothing more.
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Author:
nephilim56 (
Offline) - Published: March 8th, 2024 06:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
The painful reality of a partnership ending in death. A funeral scene that many of us one day may have to witness. I felt the chill. Nicely penned stanzas. Visual.
as always many thanks for your kind words
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