(A poem re-write based around a funeral I went to, as well as being inspired on a day when a friend had a funeral to go to. Both days, a storm brought heavy wind and rain.
The poem is written for her and for me and the friend I lost all those years ago)
Cold,
freezing cold,
partly sleet,
cold sleety rain.
The wind howled
throwing the rain against the grey slate of the church roof.
Mourners,
wrapped in coats and jumpers and scarfs,
umbrellas abandoned,
useless in the gale,
standing by the graveside
each alone in their loss
their thoughts expressed on their faces.
The relentless rain,
the location,
the ceremony.,
...all seemed appropriate.
Grey the sky.
Grey the churchyard.
Grey the hearts.
Grey the mood.
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