The Cemetery
Snow fell lightly that February day.
So many mourners hurried fast away.
I was well dressed. I did not mind the snow,
And though the north wind blew, I felt aglow.
'T was a long time since anyone I knew,
Was buried there amidst cypress and yew.
The silence and solitude were my balm.
That's how I felt that time peacefully calm.
The light snow stopped and everywhere was white.
Sunset descended on a grey dark night.
A watchman checked everywhere, all had gone.
He saw me not. I had gone like the dawn.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2023
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