a piece of a bookthere was a funeral that daythe snow was thick on the ground were the casket laywhite roses sat in tight buncheswhile weeping crows hunched on the benchesthere was a girl on the edge of the graveher hair was long and blondepowdered with snow no one saw the girl exept a dove dressed all in whiteshe stood at the backher eyes were dryshe watched the girl at the gravethe two were sadin the same wayeach knew the otherbut only one would grievethe other was deadit was her time to leave the girl had to stand back as they filled in the graveberrying her bodysealing her faitslowly each crow flew awaytill only