A fall evening,

Cool and sunny,

The sky became dimmer as we drove closer.

Black dresses and black suits.

We had pizza for dinner,

But our stomaches wouldn't settle,

Knowing what we would see later that night,

A viewing,

The drive was over an hour long,

It was beautiful, don't get me wrong,

The mountains were clear and jagged,

My shaky hands turning the wheel,

And my nervous foot bringing the car to a stop,

Somewhere in Thorton.

The night sounded an echo of grief.

I heard it in the mountains,

I heard it in the silverware clinking at dinner,

I heard it in our black clothes and car screeches,

I heard it in a door opening,

I heard it in the tears of friends and her family,

I heard it in our shared wounds,

Our hearts still ached the same,

Our souls dripping the same thick blood.

Hugs and solace bring patience to our wounds.

We tried to not let the blood drip on her body,

Stiff and Grey,

Her cinnamon skin faded,

Her afro shrinking to shallow waters and not the towering waves as it once had been.

An echo of Grief,

Stood over our shoulders,

A companion.

That never leaves.