Grief

Night comes. Footsteps echo, rustling fallen leaves scattered on dark earth. Tears fall, as with bent head, a young girl weeps. Eyes wide, dead weary breaking inside soul shattering pain, hands raise trembling fingers to rest against stone markers, joined. Twixt dead souls, the small oblisk, listing sideways, boasts time faded lettering bearing three words among numbers of birth to death. Moaning wind sighs softly, caressing tumbled strands stained deep gold. Wet grief alongside shadowed face. Time passes. Sinking slowly, body wraps itself against memory as soft cheek presses cold rock. Lips kiss rough stone rendering. “I love you, Beth.”