Untitled
A tear falls from a man's cheek
And hits the dusty ground
With a quiet thud.
The crowd mumbles
Things of little importance;
The weather,
Last nights pot roast.
An uniformed man
Pushes his way through the crowd,
Followed by another uniform,
And the woman,
For whom this gathering is assembled,
She hangs her head
And meets not one gaze.
They reach the center
And climb the steep stairs
To the top of the contraption.
The woman meets the man's gaze
With eyes full of sorrow.
She opens her mouth
To say one last time
How much she loves him,
And then...
Blackness.
The man slips away
Through the cheering crowd,
And begins to mourn
His lost love.
This poem was written by my friend Bonnie Early. She wrote this poem sometime last year, and I wanted to share it with everyone.
