When we had gone, the grass held our shadows
Carved into place by the weight of a moment.
Eavesdropping trees whispered our secrets
To feathered messengers when the sun sought our warmth,
And, finding it no more, lent its own to memory.
The breeze sighed our absence in the emptiness
While the dew mourned with the flowers.
But earth smiled at their folly
And stone remembered.
Published by Sue Vincent
Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs.
Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org.
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