Snowfall in the Cemetery
The flurry subsides; a delicate alabaster blanket spreads over the field of finality.
Moonbeams dance across the graves, the silence as pristine as their snow-white hue.
A gentle winter breeze dances among the tombstones like a spectral coryphee.
There is tranquility on this side of the veil; yet, in the quiet of night, the dead still make their presence known.
© 2022 by The Twisted Libra
One thought on “The muse strikes…”
Love, love, love it!!