Empty Flatlands
Two figures, black and shadowy
Bundled up for their snowy hike
Walk in silence
Only broken by the pattering of a stray’s paws
In icy slush
A darker snow opposite the land lies above them
Like a mountain, only barely distinguishable as sky
Dark trees lining the horizon parted for
A funeral procession of three
Road wearily stretching onwards
Snow peppered downwards into soft mud
Beaten with footsteps from people passed
Long ago
They move across the empty flatlands
Mourning the sun
And listening for the
Church bell’s ring
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