She walked up to the grave slowly, knees trembling, footfalls unsure on ground that seemed ready to spin away under her. There was no one around: the church was fallen into disrepair, the graveyard disused, overgrown, forgotten.
"It's been a long time." There were no flowers to lay down; her hands stayed in her pockets. "Fifty years? Sixty?"
Swirling leaves were a halo of yellow and orange and red around her, slipping past her as she stood, pinning against the tree, wedging against the headstone. She didn't bend down to clear them away.
"Maybe you've forgotten. But I never will."
Deep thoughts unsaid here - evocative piece.
ReplyDeleteI have to admit, I had a scene from "Grosse Pointe Blank" (a brilliant and completely wordless scene where John Cusack's character visits his father's grave) in mind when I wrote this.
Deletepoignant
ReplyDeleteThank you :-)
DeleteThank you for reading and commenting. :)
ReplyDeleteyou got our imaginations going here! Great piece..
ReplyDeleteSometimes we need to remember... hopefully there were brighter roads ahead
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and commenting. :)
Deletesad and evocative....
ReplyDeleteThe heart never forgets.
ReplyDeleteI don't have one, myself, but that's what I hear. ;-)
DeleteSecond one with a feel of resentment. Leaves some vivid imagery without actually expressing what could not be forgotten.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading and commenting :)
DeleteSome things we never forget....a strong write David! :-)
ReplyDeleteVery kind, thank you :)
DeleteTouching and poignant...
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
Delete