Soft again

And so she walks ‘cross mossy greens Until her soles rubbed raw She never slows or turns her cheek ‘Way from the rising dawn As leaves do change and fall below She hardly feels the chill For when it’s time for snow to blow She’s passed the hardest hills Her fabric’s torn on passing thorns The Earth’s gone soft again And when the songbird ‘gain does horn She whistles at path’s end Her grave sits chipped and wearing with The ever raging winds On beds of grass no bodies sit To visit with a friend Lonesome evermore she lies Her hums the buzzing bees Her golden locks the daffodils Her eyes the muddy creek Time pieces back the things she’s lost Peace times in grains of sand When lost are all the grains she had Her bones remain to talk The wind does carry voices far ‘Cross seas and skies the vast And lone a voice does come to speak To bones of her time’s past Who brought you here to rest so far? On your own you walked? To escape the rooftop eyes? Or hopeful that a passerby May one day make the stop?