A Snowy Grave
He came upon
A snowy wood
The light from the dawn
Trickled through the canopy.
It peppered the shadowed land
With sprinkles of gold
Reflecting off the snow.
This is where
He would dig his grave.
He grasped the shovel,
His fingertips pale and numb.
Digging it into
The frosted earth,
A tear trickled down his cheek.
It fell,
Dancing in the still air,
Until it landed
In the divot he dug.
It lay there,
Serene.
He dug again.
The tear was no more.
Midday sun
Shone above the treetops.
He kept digging.
The warm colors of dusk
Poked through the trees.
He threw down the shovel.
It landed with a clang
On a nearby stone.
He pulled a slip of paper
From his dirt-caked pocket,
Clutched it against his heart,
And collapsed into the hole.
Night fell,
And the wood was silent.
A passerby
Saw the shovel
Saw the pile of dirt.
She hurried to the scene
And saw him,
His lifeless form soaked with snow.
She pried the note
From his cold hands.
It’s for you, my
darling,
It read.
It’s for you.
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| Image © jdnpics 2012 |
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