Caroline walks in the cemetery, end of summer,
end of the day, wandering among regal tombs
and the black stained angels who weep still.
The falling night is still warm, air radiating
with the leftovers of the sunlight, and the
sunset haloes those mournful angels.
They say ghosts are here, and maybe
they are, maybe demons too, and those
that call upon them in the dark.
And, in the wind, wind with a chill
under the warmth, of the failing light
and bitter nights yet to come……
She hears her name, feels something
cool coiling around the ache in her heart,
the ache that brought her here to be alone.
She stops, unsure. Looks back behind her,
wondering if a demon is claiming, or
a weeping angel is calling her back home.
She walks again, thinks again of the name
she curses, and then looks up at the starlight
starting to peak through the leaves of gnarled trees.
Maybe an angel is calling her home, it’s tears for her this time……….