She took a drive along the river; windows open, breeze blowing her hair; down that long winding road she once loved so well. Riverfront mansions guarded, by imposing iron gates, with large white pillar columns reminiscent of long ago days. Giant old oaks trimmed with grey-green moss, seduce her imagination as if fragments of ghosts once lost. Circular driveways lined with shiny cars, announced the celebrations commencing inside.
She slowed when the road divided, wrapping round more giant trees, then an immediate left she carefully turned, making her way into the old, dark cemetery. Graves like none other she’d ever seen, imminent death revered in this place. Poinsettias and wreaths adorned the tombs, for those passed on, still remembered and loved.
Walking alone in silence, ignoring the sudden rain, ever aware that her presence did not go unnoticed, but fearing not, for it was peace that she felt. She thought of those she’d loved and lost, of spirits set free and their certain knowing; of holidays past that she’d taken for granted; of all she should be thankful for, too tired to ignore that ever present ache.
Home is where the heart is, if that’s true her heart is misplaced; for she desperately longs to bridge the distance and make up for years seemingly lost; to live the rest of her given days, sharing life with those she most loves.
She heard the wings beating rapid, repelling the now pouring rain, she stood looking up rain pelting her face, mixed with the warmth of her tears. She’d wished for a sign, an answer to her plight, as the Hawk unseen had been watching her, made his presence known in sudden flight; she closed her eyes as he vanished from sight and felt her heart being spirited away…
©2010 by Jill Terry