A Teardrop Falls

A teardrop falls
beneath a dull grey sky
as a cold wind bristles 
through the leafless trees
and curls around
a solitary man beside a grave.

It rests upon the petals, 
pure and white, 
of a single rose he lays 
upon her name
engraved across the tombstone
at his feet.

One white bloom, more beautiful
than bouquets filled 
with dozens, rich and red,
for it reminds him 
of the simple, inner beauty
that was her.

And as he wishes 
he could hold her once again,
another teardrop falls.
 

november 2004
ŠJanet Reid







Awarded by Friendly Musings ~ Nov 28, 2004