As they lay her down
In a bed of wildflowers
And tickled her hands holy,
A grandson disobeyed her bequeath
And draped her with a rosary.
His frozen tears fell on tweed
And silk and perfume
The gaslamp was thereafter
Too lackluster and cold
To visit the fairytales by Bauer
His pillar had left his pediment
Dangling above stone
Who knew that facing a
Crucible
Could be caused by one of your own?
