Alone in the churchyard I watch
mortals mourning in tears and flowers.
Leaning against a rowan tree
abandoned by my family.
Beneath my feet a girl is weeping
I open my arms and kneel down
In surprise, she looks up at me
screaming like a startled crow.
She runs back through the stone and grass
reaching out to her, I follow
She turns to me – her eyes are cold
and zap – she’s now in the past.
Falling through time – I am weeping;
my eyes hidden behind grey fingers.
Left within eternal sleeping
this is where my Winter lingers.
Charlie Ann Alford 