Follow The Birds

Sweet
crisp 
autumn air
leaves 
blanketing
crimsons
oranges
brown dried 
littering the ground beneath our feet.
Walking 
listening 
talking 
there is a loss
a lack
a devastation
that we must face before tomorrow.
Came to me you did
wracked in guilt
needing absolution
down on your knees
begging me
tears running unchecked
an ugly cry
to forgive you for all that you did.
Lost I became
unsure of my desire
my ability to forgive 
to offer my hand in hope
when really
all I wanted to do was rage and cry.
Finally we ended here
in forest deep 
only one leaving in the end.
Back I arrived
present 
as the sheriff stood over your corpse.
Always they will lead
once they have feasted upon sins
and eyes.
to the lost sinner himself.’
March 3/19
This is an awesome idea brought to us from Theresa over at The Haunted Wordsmith.
Photo by Casey Allen on Unsplash