The Winter Cemetery
Powder from heaven falls.
Frail shadows loom on cemetery walls.
We walk without a word
when a lone winter bird
in the stillness is heard.
Caw-caw-caw, to the west of us it calls.
Toward the sound we go
past tree limbs hanging low -heavy with snow.
We watch along our way
how in the wind they sway,
for the breeze seems to play
a macabre tune to the cawing crow.
There it is to the west!
Scarring clean white, we tread the small hill’s crest.
How sad it is – how wrong
his body should belong
here where no lark’s glad song
is heard. Instead, a crow for the unblessed!
With this place now abloom
with fresh snow, shadows thicken in the gloom.
How mournful is wind’s moan
as I speak to his stone -
“Dear brother, all alone,
why is winter’s cemetery your doom?”
Written Jan. 6, 2018 for Broken Wing's "Rhyme Me a Poem" Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2018
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