I saw an Angel’s face Greened with tears.

Watched globes of mist lose form

And drip from holly tips.

The wind limped and keened

Between statues and trees

Where moss softens names

Of the no longer missed.

Arms askew, weeping pines

Reached to shuttered skies.

Onyx-eyed crows stood silent.

Sc

aled feet on lost leaves.

3 thoughts on “Cemetery in December

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