16 Jan 1996             dedicated to SC
I dreamed I was
dreaming�?BR>what else could be that real?
I was standing on the edge
of a freshly dug grave.
There were no other mourners,
only the dirt
and the silence
and the rain.
Slowly..finally...
I made myself look down...
not at what I thought I would see,
not a box,
not a body,
but something else altogether.
Not you, not even me...
but us,
the carefully woven
fragile thing
that we were together.
I watched as it slowly sank
under the muddy water.
There was no bugler
blowing taps,
there were no guns,
no salutes,
and no prayers.
I dropped a single rose
in the mud
and walked away.