The low autumn breeze tumbles a fallen leaf and turns the brightly coloured windmill in the silent garden.
Cars parked up on the gravel; racks and pinions rusting with dew, morning after morning.
No headstone; it didn’t seem befitting for someone not yet grown, instead, stony children frozen together in play. Cold, hard companions eternal in their infancy; affectionate smiles as permanent as his Parent’s memories.
Sitting there too is a reminder of the faithful friend who’s canine heart broke on the day the boy didn't come home.
Written in collaboration with Stefan Lubomirski de Vaux who provided the image that sparked this. Have a look at his blog here and his photography here.
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4 comments:
Thank you again for distilling the essence of my image in compassionate words.
Jaysus girlfriend, I really don't need this.
Now I'm thoroughly depressed. And I still have the carnage that is Vietnam and Cambodia to get through.
You are welcome slubomirski! Thanks for the image.
hmmmm...sorry about that bp. Happier thoughts next time i promise.
Nice one lady - good and dark and just enough sentimentality too. There's some graves like this in the churchyard near me, very poignant yet saccharine at same time.
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