In the Pale Moonlight

I see the old grave yard from my window seal late at night and I have noticed a woman walking in the pale moon light. I'm sure there is a story that her presence could tell, but I can't read it for her face is covered in a long, white veil. I watch her each and every night, in her long, tattered dress, that's filled with hollowed light, not a hair is out of place and she moves so peacefully and full of grace. Her hands are long and slender, so petite and in her hands she holds a bucket full of flowers that seems to need a drink. Down to the old, water well she goes, but there has been no water there for several years or more. Everyone who lives here, this they all know. She places the bucket and mysteriously the water runs and all of a sudden the flowers glow as if they were in the sun. She visits each gravestone during the night and leaves a single flower and gracefully moves on, in loving flight. I followed her late one night to find where she laid herself to rest, long before daylight. Her grave was barren and she too seemed alone and my heart felt for her deeply as I read her headstone. Here Rest Lilly who with her heart she was lead to leave flowers for those without families and resting alone in their earthly bed. May God bless her in the after life and always bloom flowers over her, even in the night. I visit her now at least once a week and I place fresh flowers at her feet; In hopes she will know just how much I and all who rest here, appreciates her so.