Winter Withered Terribly

Winter Withered Terribly

They found her
cold as stone
laying amongst the shrubs.

The mid-March sun
had wreaked havoc
on the frozen winter snow,
and melted the beauty
from her
face.

Her sorrow was everyplace,
sorted over by scavengers.
And they were scavengers
of the most wretched kind.

She was not what they
had hoped to find...
cold as stone,
all alone,
dead –
to the bone,
laying amongst
the shrubs.

Out on their morning walk
discussing their
new selection of coffee,
or how their
new home will be
put together.
that’s when they saw her.
Cold dead eyes
staring up through the frost.

The last remnants of
winter
withered terribly.
But the
blanket did not.

The blanket shall tell
their shameful stories.
The scavengers’ lies will
unfold
out of every once frozen
fiber.

The fibers-
once used for warmth,
and then,
used to quiet her-
will scream songs of
her travesty.
In a final honesty,
the fibers will weave a picture
of her last warm
breaths.

The blanket will
silhouette the scavengers
who laid her in death,
deep in the snow
to grow cold as stone,
laying amongst
the shrubs.

The last remnants of winter
withered terribly,
but the blanket did not.

-Molly