It had started to rain on that dismal Friday.
The heatwave Summer of that year
had performed a disappearing act,
coming to an abrupt, unwelcome end.
The chill of early Autumn filled the air.
She stood, lost, rooted, full of sorrow,
oblivious to everything around her
and unaware of the rain seeping insidiously
through the few clothes she wore.
People started to leave; she remained.
She knew it was irrational
but, she wanted a cosy warm blanket
to lay over the newly dug grave.
A blanket to keep her sister warm,
she didn't want her to get cold.
The night would soon be here
and her sister would be all alone,
alone in the dark, damp, freshly dug earth.
She wanted to lay there with her.
She knew it was irrational
but, she couldn't think of her as dead.
Someone touched her shoulder
and she knew she had to go.
Walking slowly away from the grave,
she felt as if she was joined to her sister
by something which tried to pull her back.
She knew it was irrational.
Jacqueline Nash
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-knew-it-was-irrational/
