I feel like a statue, and in a way
But they gather around me,
And peep inside.
They bow and close eyes,
And light candles before me.
I see familiar faces, and only those
I’ve seen once.
They know me not, but still they kneel.
Still, they pray.
I look beyond the cryptic and find familiarity.
Tears are shed by fluttering butterflies,
All in white.
Dark blues stand strong yet shake inside.
I go up in a few and I shall never return.
Yet visit, maybe…
Send a postcard or two wrapped in red and blue.