sky covered body,
grass stained back
broken lawn,
dampness hung
in the air,                                     "please get it over"
               clung to the copse of bare
               tree branches, their knuckles  
               held a veil of tears, streamed
               one to another as each one was
               shed, became a curtain
               but not a sound,                        "please get it over"
                                             distant mountains,
                                              like gods, towered,
                                              watching the spectacle
                                              while knowing they
                                              were spectacular,
                                              there was no equal,
               the black shape, moved
               on the asphalt, where only
               desperate green hints, grew
               hardy, alive, hardly anything
               moved until the dark shape
               stood still, unsure, idle.

the hands removed
the white stain from the
grass and placed it on a
bed of noisy wheels,
that was swallowed whole.                  "please get it over, I can't see"
by the idle blackness.

All moved slow,
there was no hurry,
no worry, unseeing eyes
stared at the blue sky seeking
God and that mercy had
come and gone, there was no warmth
the cold left, circumspect, all else,      
was corpse that was not soul.                      "get it over, please"

Lifeless left, the car moved on,
the mountains shook their trees,
and the branches near stopped ,
shedding tear shaped water drops,
the grass began to lift slowly as
soon as the weight was lifted,
                                                   some life returned to normal.