The town buried her beneath peach-red skies:      less than several days ago.

All the while in the distance, gravel-filled               caws in the distance measured a
thickness of time; the casket lid, rained                  with tears, sank beneath Earth’s longest wave.

Everyone had dirt under their nails                     and a heavy weight of guilt. Then,
at night on the 1st of May she returned               to town on an errand so vital
that she had come                                                    unannounced and entered

into the cafe where she last had cried–              while holding the hand of her lover,
she sat down at the chair with red eyes              and again watched her fiancé bleed
from a wound within his head; his blue             sapphire eyes melting as their dying hearts.

THE gunman was wrestled to the ground
on top of a love poem she
had penned to her fiancé . In part it read:

“The town buried her beneath peach-red skies…”

:: 04-25-2018 ::