Stone and Breath
The spirit stores hope in eternity until darkness collects bones. Am I here to protect the dead who lie in this field of concrete lilies or is it the living I must shield from their grief? I stand stone carved muscle and wings, a warrior angel who can’t lift my head for the weight of tears wailing in the wind. It is the living who war with loss. Let me be a sword for those who breathe. ©Susie Clevenger 2019 Sunday Muse #57