Red Rose On A White Grave Poem by Brennah Bailey

I walk through the black looming gates.
The ground is heavy with snow.
Flakes skitter from the sky coating my hair and lashes.
My boots make a path up the hill.
Snow dances with my tears.
On this hill the ominous stones stand empty of remembrance.
Black skeleton trees stand against the backdropp of gray.
I walk slowly afraid to let the pained silence end.
It comes all too quickly and I sink to my knees before the newly set stone.
I sit there my black scarf billowing in the wind.
A statue held still by grief.
Hours pass and with a sigh I stand and follow my path past the stones, and gates.
In my place standing silent vigil a red rose sits on a white grave.