On a hill
not far away.
There stands a stone
all shades of grey.
And on that stone,
one fateful day.
She sat to rest
from work and play.

There she sits
still to this day.
Covered in moss
a sad display.
She sat to long
emotions affray.
And decided to let
them all dance away.

As they danced,
across the way.
She never knew
the price she’d pay.
And as they passed,
to our dismay.
She changed to match
the stones dark grey.

Cold as ice
despite the day.
Still as stone
that won’t decay.
Only erode
as time will play.
Around her thrown
the grasses sway.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020