Tragedy often strikes unforeseen.
As one stands on hallowed ground
often, all that comes to mind are the why's,
with no whisper of answers heard in the
softest of breezes wheezing
as warm air teases the flower petals
woven onto the near wreath.
These hallowed grounds will have been visited
when I have had losses ten years before
and will likely be seen again ten years after,
as families gather for final farewells uttered in silence
having been too far away to say last goodbyes.
So, it just is...
ten years have come and gone
the blades of grass far from appearing
uniformly trimmed,
The tree has grown thicker, taller.
Its canopy shading yonder resting
souls, with shadows dancing on
the breeze that helps cool the air.
The changes aplenty, ten years passing,
hence the need for me to be guided
to the proper place to stand once again,
my knees now creakier, my hearing
less tuned into the honking flock of geese
flying over toward a near pond.
My memory teases thoughts more slowly
these days, retelling scenes from the last time
I stood on these hallowed grounds.
Then, as now, I am still awaiting
my time to once again be
beside you for evermore.
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