A Singular Presence

A Singular Presence A singular presence among a throng of grass blade, Green as worm blood, her marked grave devours dead air, Like a convulsing snake slurping a rat’s tail for dessert, The breaths of ghost winds embrace a shuddering tree, In numbing grief with robes made of hollyhock and bearded iris, Her still cry is frozen in the icy prisons of vague remembrance, Then a single flash of monarch orange astounds the mute witnesses, As it flutters like a praying monk on fire, landing on drooping leaves, And her name, etched upon the singular sun-dried tombstone, Sends to the tranquil estuaries a roaring river of inconsolable tears, And her awakened soul finds a respite at last in its rush to rise.