Winter of Life
A lonely coffin, bleak and bare,
with only undertakers there.
The vicar, saddened by the sight,
envisioned everlasting light,
and prayed a lost and loveless soul
could find salvation and be whole.
She didn't care about the scene -
and if the churchyard trees were green,
or wintry branches, void of life -
she only knew she was a wife,
a mother, granny, aunt, and friend.
The loneliness was at an end,
and now with parents, siblings, pets,
her tears were over, no regrets.
The vicar turned and walked away;
he'd three more funerals that day...
written 2nd January for Emile's Winter contest
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2021
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