lining of her nose. someone has placed four
roses, dark as
ebony: one for mother, one for father, one for sister,
and one for – her
dry bones, crumple inward,
yellowing, fading to so much more
dust covering the resting ground,
every inch piled
ankle-sinking-high, where four
dearly departed trudge eternally
:( This is tragic! But beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteSad, death and decay. You create such vivid images.
ReplyDelete