Beneath the ice
majestic pine limbs
grow weary.

                        One
                        less hearty
                        surrenders with a snap,
                        carrying with it
                        a crackling power line
                        to the cold groundcoffin
                        waiting.  

The Earthtongues still
in the wake of a loss
from the griefgrey landscape
beyond my window.  

Silence
chokes off all man-made voices,  

shrouding my room
with a hush of respect
as Nature mourns.

I catch my breath
lest a whisper intrude.  

The only sound
                        falling 

from the other side of
                        Silence 

comes from the Sky, 

                        Softly
                        shedding
                        crystal
                        teardrops.

                                       Copyright © 1988 Pam Patterson