Ranger was buried several months ago
Each day at sunset I stand by his gravestone
Grief coiling and twisting as I cry
“I am so tired, I am so alone”.
Oh, Ranger, how I do miss you. Do you miss me, too?
Can you not take a minute and speak to me – oh, please do.
Is that Ranger I hear calling, Raven come to me soon?”
She thinks of Ranger’s life not of his death
Remembering who he was, the quality of his breadth
In wisdom, humor, sensitivity and depth
She recalls how his arms felt, enfolding, caressing
How they came together in ecstasy
Committing to pleasure, but not just in passion
Gifting each other in every way – a blessing.
Raven turns and walks towards the manor
No hesitation evident in her demeanor
In the library a fire gives off a pleasing warmth
A bouquet of sweet fragrant rosemary lies upon the hearth
Raven tours the manor up and down
Straightening here and over there
Looking at everything, putting it all in place
She changes clothes pulling on the dress Ranger loved best
Down the stairs and into the library where she writes a brief note
She removes something from Ranger’s hanging greatcoat
She snaps a sprig of rosemary and puts it in her hair
Ranger loved rosemary and often tucked some behind his ear
Clouds have deepened and darkened
Thunder rolling closer and rain is coming soon
Raven stands braced against Ranger’s gravestone
Murmuring, “I’m almost there, Ranger, I can’t wait to see you”
She raises a pistol to her head
Calmly, no indecision, no dread
“Raven, my love, I have always been nearby
Waiting for you to take the journey to my side”
“I’m here, Ranger, never leave me again, never
Together we can now share forever”
The pistol shot was heard by workers harvesting hay
They rushed to see what was happening
Disbelieving, they looked where the manor lady lay
Her arms curled round, embracing
Her husband’s gravestone, smiling.
People who travel the road past the manor
Swear that when the skies darken and thunder clouds gather
They see Ranger and Raven strolling together
Their arms wrapped round each other’s waist
Looking happy, free of worry and care
As if they were simply “taking the air”.
Author: Carol Zic
February 4, 2011
"AMONG THE DEAD"