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The Priest


Rusty Broadspear

A dull day embraced with drizzle

Damp, cold, didn't want to be a day.

She stood at the graveside dressed in black

Wide black hat with facial veil.

Wreaths began to dance

As drizzle turned to rain, then hail.

She was totally broken,

So many words, promises unspoken.

She was alone.

The sky shot to black

And the weeping willows sobbed.

She pulled her collar tight to her neck,

A beautiful woman, 'neath the disguise.

Sister, wife, daughter, lover, who knows?

Falling apart

Losing her heart,

She threw her flowers onto the grave.

She was upset,

So many equations

And lateral lines.

Who was she?

And who was the soul that flew?

We kill the flowers that we cut

They deserve to be placed with reverence.

She didn't close the churchyard gate,

She was angry.

Yet I loved her

As I closed the Church

And watched her dissolve into the night.

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