The Silent Procession
The orchestra couldn’t come because it was too cold.
The only music – the crunching of the snow
as the procession moved on.
That, and someone’s fitful coughing.
As if they were going to die too.
At one point, the coughing stopped.
I hope that person went somewhere warm.
After that, everything grew quiet.
Those who cried did so voicelessly.
No one wanted to disturb this pristine silence.
Surely it was more natural without music.
The snow kept falling and covered our tracks.
And soon it was
as if nothing had happened here.
GloPoWriMo Day 28
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