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As I sit here with my face against the wind,
I see what happened once more.
The crack of the wood,
The howl of the cold.
Once more,
The sight of that night haunts me.
He lifted her up,
She screamed,
Then silence fell.
I knew what was happening.
That sight,
Her in the air.
His arm raised.
The wind is stinging my face now,
As I realize why,
My face is wet,
But my cloths are dry.
Tears are streaming down my face as I remember.
I saw her fall,
She was a lifeless lump.
Once more he scooped her up,
Then dumped her in a hole.
Was it five feet?
Ten?
It doesn’t matter now,
She is dead.
And I,
I am stuck with the memory.
©2007-2010 ~NoviceArtist
:iconnoviceartist:

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Just a little something written in my creative writing class in 2006.

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May 26, 2007
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