I wander through the evergreens
past stones no longer bearing names
the posy scent of faded blooms
now mingle with the falling rain.
My only company a crow
with beady eye and mourning clothes
aloud he cries into the squall,
this keeper of a thousand souls.
He leads me on to where you lay
in silent slumber all alone
in comfort now I pray you'll be
each stormy night and frosted morn.
The wind now moans its sweet lament
to bow the trees, their heads in shame
as tattered posies turn to dust
among these stones that bear no name.