The stone of Late
This day I knelt on fresh turned sod,
With head bent low in prayer.
And numbness held the pain at bay,
As words dissolved in air.
Her face appeared each crystal tear,
That fell beneath my eyes.
And each one brought a different thought,
Negating her demise.
I did not wish to understand,
A reason for this fate.
I only wished to compensate,
This tragedy of late.
There was one thought that passed my mind,
But one of some dismay.
This gift of pain although unkind,
Will some day drift away.
And I cursed my mind, the time and state,
As my eyes burned on the stone and date.