Tombstones

Shifting my weight onto the old bridge. Listening to it's ragged cries of protest. The mist rising from it's slumber, casts an ominous attitude. As I walk by, the trees extend their bony fingers. They snatch at my hair as I pass them by. I near my destination. A tribe of tombstones stand before me. I soon find the one I have searched for. Kneeling down, I place a rose by the lonely head stone. I turn my back and walk away. The headstone and rose drifts into the night. Swallowed by the starving darkness. (For Dorothy, Wanda, and Elwood)