Dead Days

Her face peeks through the window shades,
A tire swing waves slowly in the wind,
The sun sits high in the sky,
Only half shrouded by the clouds,
Shadows of the trees cast over the grounds,
She watches with a lonely gaze,
No one runs, laughs or plays,
It's a dead day.

The birds have a moment of silence,
The wolves let up sad cries,
Everyone mourns for the dead,
Praying that they've entered Heaven,
She stares as nothing happens,
Doors lock and windows shut,
There is no sound.

A tear falls down her face,
That tire swing where her son used to play,
Continues to sway gently,
A beautiful day so darkened with woe,
Her husband's arm is around her shoulders,
Trying to comfort her as much as possible,
But death was too quick,
To strike the family's youngest.

The church bell rings sorrowfully,
People open their doors,
And file slowly to the chapel,
Everyone cries for their loss,
Or someone elses,
26 people void of the crowd,
So many deaths.

These dead days.