Funeral in the Wildflowers. ©

What was the ground like
Before you were in it?
Solid and untouched
Not yet a body pit.
Did it know this was
the fate that lie ahead?
Were there other hopes
than consuming the dead?

Now I’m sitting here
Knowing you’re six feet deep.
The thirsty ground yields
the tears from fallen cheeks.
Maybe after time
Has come and gone from me.
There will sprout flowers
Where my tears used to be.

Then there I will be
Next to you in the ground.
Nothing more than names
On tombstones to be found.

(© Emilee Ayers)

(Written March 6th, 2015, I think)