The darkness fell over him
Like a shroud over a cadaver
His unseeing eyes seeing all
And his silent lips telling countless tales
As he sat there quiet and forlorn
Lost and feeble
His arms trembling on his walking stick
As the cold chilled his arthritic bones
She lay there
Just beyond the great sycamore
Separated from him by death
When nothing could in life
He cursed the tears in his eyes
Those cold pearls of sleet
He cursed the snow that covered her now
For he knew she would hate it so
As the darkness grew
He knew it was time
Time to go, time to depart
He placed the lilies on her headstone again
And slipped into his coffin a few feet away… …
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