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The Priest
by
Rusty Broadspear
A dull day embraced with drizzle
Damp, cold, didn't want to be a day.
She stood at the graveside dressed in black
Wide black hat with facial veil.
Wreaths began to dance
As drizzle turned to rain, then hail.
She was totally broken,
So many words, promises unspoken.
She was alone.
The sky shot to black
And the weeping willows sobbed.
She pulled her collar tight to her neck,
A beautiful woman, 'neath the disguise.
Sister, wife, daughter, lover, who knows?
Falling apart
Losing her heart,
She threw her flowers onto the grave.
She was upset,
So many equations
And lateral lines.
Who was she?
And who was the soul that flew?
We kill the flowers that we cut
They deserve to be placed with reverence.
She didn't close the churchyard gate,
She was angry.
Yet I loved her
As I closed the Church
And watched her dissolve into the night.
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