This article was written for Annabel & Grace, which is now part of Rest Less.
Grey clouds descend, folding in on us like an achromatic cloud of dust
Swirling and whirling around our feet.
Raindrops fall like tiny, shimmering pearls, iridescent in the half-light,
Like a physical embodiment of our grief.
Thunder rolls somewhere, far off in the Scottish hills
And through the mist, by the back door
A lone Corgi sits, knowingly, his sense of timing innate.
She is gone, never to return
And as he raises his deep, brown, liquid eyes
A rainbow comes into view.
Shining with a soft, wavering light in tones of silence
Stretched out in hope of an understanding
That in all things, time will pass.
Darkness to light, tears to laughter, sadness to joy.
Memories embedded and precious.
Shaking out his coat, he turns and looks back, behind him, just in case
But seeing her absence, he sniffs the air just once and ventures out alone.
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