Lost As a Feather,Follow the Pretty Beads

Lost as a feather,follow the pretty beads , Lost as the feather of a raven,I walk myself across the empty court yard, Where I come across an occasional mound of fresh dirt not quite marked, They seem as lost as I am,I look for her decor,as I had done the week before, Even then I wondered why a raven would circle on this hottest of days,shadowing through the leafless trees, My tears subside-not like the sweat ,which rolls down my face onto the crackled ground, I stand dividing the past and the future,shadows are cast when the raven passes ,giving off an instant of the truth , Why do I seek the call of the Raven,while searching for my friend,Who has left, joining the rest- dancing on cloud nine, I am as lost as the feather there on the ground near where I ‘m sure her body lays. There are a few pretty beads left behind,as though she had left a trail to where she had gone. . -Dedicated to Lynn Summers who passed away here lately 8-1-2011