Next Comes Raven

Ranger was buried a few months ago Rave grieves silently at his tombstone She thinks of Ranger’s life not of his death Recalling the qualities of his breadth In wisdom, humor, sensitivity and depth Raven remembers how his arms felt caressing Holding each other loving and cherishing Committing to pleasure not just in passion Gifting each other a mutual blessing. Raven turns and walks towards the Manor No indecision evident in her demeanor In the library a fire gives off pleasing warmth A sprig of fragrant rosemary lies upon the hearth She picks it up and tucks it in her hair Ranger loved rosemary and wore it for flair Raven tours the manor up and down Touching looking yet making no sound Straightening above below and over there Catching Ranger's scent everywhere In the bedroom Raven dons the dress Ranger loved Demurely fashioned and deep red it fit her like a glove She’s downstairs now in the library writing a brief note Then she’s removing something from Ranger’s overcoat. Firmly Raven braces against Ranger’s gravestone Firing the pistol pressed against the side of her head Without fear without tears hesitation or dread. The pistol shot was heard by workers harvesting hay At the cemetery they found where the Manor lady lay They stared at her body frightened and shocked Her arms round Ranger’s headstone tightly locked Settled in sweet repose as if offering a greeting Raven looking peaceful her face beaming and smiling. People who travel the road past the Manor Swear that when thunder clouds gather They see Ranger and Raven walking together Around the Manor grounds quite the loving pair Ambling at a leisurely pace as if simply taking the air.