Open grave, one mourner lingers,
Settled in to watch the show.
One by one, the crows have gathered,
Signaling it’s time to go.
Sons and daughters wrapped in sackcloth,
Wives and widows veiled in lace,
File past the lowered casket.
Fractured smiles scar each face.
Some toss roses scentless, thornless.
Others shed fake, saltless tears.
Too much dirt was thrown already—
Mud enough for countless years.
Still, one mourner sits at graveside,
Watching this parade go by.
Folded flag clutched to her heart,
She doesn’t move; she doesn’t cry.
Open grave, a silent warning:
Watch your step as you draw near.
The earth in time will heal this wound,
Hope buried deep ‘neath grief and fear.