Sunday, November 3

Empty

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Empty

Standing at the grave I smell loss 
the crisp Autumn day turned damp
as the fog danced and swirled about
like ghosts of the past encircling.

Grieving relatives rending their garments 
wept openly while the children huddled. 

Raindrops fell on my shoulders like reminders 
constantly tapping and telling me,
“He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.”

© Rebekka Sanchez 2013

2 comments:

  1. For children life is like a flowing water, they donot care much what is happening around them and are lost in their own innocence.

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    1. Yes it's so true. Thanks for stopping by and following my website Vandana!

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