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.ReplyDelete
I 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.Delete
Thank you :-)Delete
Thank you for reading and commenting. :)ReplyDelete
you got our imaginations going here! Great piece..ReplyDelete
Sometimes we need to remember... hopefully there were brighter roads aheadReplyDelete
Thanks for reading and commenting. :)Delete
sad and evocative....ReplyDelete
The heart never forgets.ReplyDelete
I don't have one, myself, but that's what I hear. ;-)Delete
Second one with a feel of resentment. Leaves some vivid imagery without actually expressing what could not be forgotten.ReplyDelete
Thank you for reading and commenting :)Delete
Some things we never forget....a strong write David! :-)ReplyDelete
Very kind, thank you :)Delete
Touching and poignant...ReplyDelete
Thank you :)Delete