Next Comes Raven
Ranger was buried a few months ago
Rave grieves silently at his tombstone
She thinks of Ranger’s life not of his death
Recalling the qualities of his breadth
In wisdom, humor, sensitivity and depth
Raven remembers how his arms felt caressing
Holding each other loving and cherishing
Committing to pleasure not just in passion
Gifting each other a mutual blessing.
Raven turns and walks towards the Manor
No indecision evident in her demeanor
In the library a fire gives off pleasing warmth
A sprig of fragrant rosemary lies upon the hearth
She picks it up and tucks it in her hair
Ranger loved rosemary and wore it for flair
Raven tours the manor up and down
Touching looking yet making no sound
Straightening above below and over there
Catching Ranger's scent everywhere
In the bedroom Raven dons the dress Ranger loved
Demurely fashioned and deep red it fit her like a glove
She’s downstairs now in the library writing a brief note
Then she’s removing something from Ranger’s overcoat.
Firmly Raven braces against Ranger’s gravestone
Firing the pistol pressed against the side of her head
Without fear without tears hesitation or dread.
The pistol shot was heard by workers harvesting hay
At the cemetery they found where the Manor lady lay
They stared at her body frightened and shocked
Her arms round Ranger’s headstone tightly locked
Settled in sweet repose as if offering a greeting
Raven looking peaceful her face beaming and smiling.
People who travel the road past the Manor
Swear that when thunder clouds gather
They see Ranger and Raven walking together
Around the Manor grounds quite the loving pair
Ambling at a leisurely pace as if simply taking the air.
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