The Passing

 

She closes her eyes and lifts from the heavy, immobile lump.

The flesh grows cold and is forgotten.

Days become years.

Years become eternity.

She is forgotten.

Another head stone like any other, with leaves curling over.

She is at peace.

Silent,

Dark,

Eternal.

Reviews

[morris]

Eternal but not forgotten. Death comes for us all. But it is the light within all of us that makes life worth the trip. Dont forget. Cry, be sadden but always remember the love from that special light. Like you are to me.

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lol. Death is another thing that tickles me to read about. You seem to write about all the right things. I kind of like the way you whittle down the words towards the end, it's kind of symbolic in a way especially since you're talking about a death of some kind. It adds to the feel and emotion of the poem.