The silver bird spread, wide, its wings,
And headed
north to home
And flew
despite the heavy weight
That sat
within its dome.
A heart
weighed down with grief,
Held tears
that freely flowed,
And the one
who rode with her,
Knew not the
sadness showed.
She road in
coach to take him home,
While he
rode, in peace, below,
For in a
pine box, there he lay.
In silence,
flew through skies of gray.
*Written in
memory of my sister
Diana’s
journey home with our
Brother
Brian ‘s body….
Bringing him
home for burial.
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