Weep For Me

Weep for me; your face covered

With your hair and sadness,

As you sit above my ancient grave, and

Keep me here in your arms,

As they were reaching for me, but

Lost that quiet battle, as the ground

Becomes that place of stopping grace,

Where you are the picture of one

So lost, so famished in your posture,

That your fatigue can be felt by each

Aching bone, each muscle in its place

Each peering one who can only glance

At you, and feel your heart, frozen

In slow time, in time that now lasts

Forever; weep for me, weep for me.

Ralph Peck

Photograph by Russ Nester