TO HETA II

There is nothing

to say, nothing

to do. Everything

has ended; frozen

the mound on your grave,

the heavy earth

atop your sleep.

The candle that failed

to withstand the wind,

light failing

in the gathering dark.

Yet these words come,

sorrow and pain and guilt,

like snowflakes

tumbling in the dark

on your grave,

white in black night.

19.01.2018