her body waits
a top the lonely hill of roses
cold
dark
still
our lives rush on
we travel here and there
when we pass, we remember …
“That’s where she’s buried”
we remember
yet our hearts, still beating
our lungs, still pulling in air
she lies silently
waiting
cold
dark
still
waiting for the day
when all shall rise
her body then ...
beautiful
glorious
warm
alive
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