Flowers To the Hill: Part Ii

making her/his way from the car to the top of the small hill,
the memories flood in &
s/he is always amazed at how much s/he can still remember,
while also noticing just how completely alone s/he is,
now that the only memory is the trip to the hill---
stopping right in front of the stone,
s/he kneels down a few feet above the lifeless corpse down below,
shut up in the box that he/she had to pick out after the accident,
one responsibility in a series of things that 
a grieving loved one should not have to go through
at the time that others want them to.

the conversation is always the same---
it is as if the person below is listening,
as far as the loved one is concerned,
because at this point in their life,
no one else is, the way that they need,
to continue living---
with no hope of meeting again in a “hereafter,”
with no sense of “justice” that might of come
in knowing a “god above” was taking care of the one
below,
the walk to the hill ends as quickly as it began,
come rain or shine,
the dead has been informed of the mundane events 
in a life that now is as good as dead as well,
now that the bond has been broken
against the will of the both of them.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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