Stone Angel

it's a day of remebrance

the day of a death

that you journey here.

you come to a place with carved stones

row upon row

they look for all the world like

dominoes

and, indeed, some have fallen.

you stroll down the rows,

feeling only clouds over your head when it's really

a sunny day

and you stop and kneel

and pay your respects to the one you loved

(you still do).

after spending a while watering fake flowers

with your tears, you stand like a new foal and

turn to leave

until you see

in the shadow under a spreading tree

something you've ever overlooked there.

he stands tall, shoulders square, a faraway look

on his cold face

his eyes seem to look to the sky, or the tree's leafy boughs

his wings spread mid-beat as

any caged bird's would be.

stepping nearer, it's easy to see the feathers patterned in stone

seeming so light, yet hard and heavy to the touch.

and it's easy to see that he

cares not a whit for the

one who underground lies, as he was no doubt intended

to.

the look on his face, so sad and yearning and just on the edge of

not-so-strong, tells the truth, as do

those sky-bound eyes