The cemetary that holds my grandfather's grave
Surrounded by snowy hills
A dreary winter day...
My grandfather's grave
Unmarked still, a mound of dirt
Purple , red, yellow petals
Scattered listlessly over the sod
A black rose, black like a raven's feather
Black like a bad omen of misfortune
The only flower not torn...
A gust of wind blows the petals about,
As I slowly walk away, hiding my tears... |
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