The Garden of Stones

Rain, a gental touch it gives
concealing the tears of what I know
fragments of a memory, of a life
that once danced and played in the rain.

Walking amongst stones placed in a garden
of green grass and untouched flowers
smooth gray stones with ingraved yore
that is left to this world, wondering.

The rain falls along with the beating of my heart
as I approach one stone smaller then the rest
slightly hidden by the branches of an unmarked tree
reads a single name not yet lost to time.

With closed eyes, I can still see her warm smile
blue eyes that radiate what was left of my soul
this is but a memory, and that memory is all that remains
where it will be cherished until I'm gone.

My shaking hand lowers a single red rose
upon the cold wet grass alongside the rain
knowing at some point I will never return
and her memory will be lost amongst the stones.

That day has not yet come to pass
a tear falls untouched to the obscure grass below
my wrinkled hands close preparing to depart
and leave this garden to the gentle rain.