THE FALL TREE THAT OVERLOOKS HER GRAVE is barren and devoid of any inflorescence. The tree seems to render it's own lifelessness to the sullen air of the cemetery. Though the sun up above is high now and brighter in the sky, the people still trudge the earth as if the ground were caked in mud.
This isn't one of those funerals where men carry umbrellas as they stand somberly in front of open graves. It is clear in the heavy gazes and the lowered heads that everyone was ready to be done with the ceremony. As least so they could depart the young woman to rest and give their grieving minds a moment of peace.
As one of the broad-leaved deciduous species, the tree lacks color at this time of the year. Though the scent carries in the wind fresh as a plucked magnolia, the branches stick out at its ends like bird talons. Large crows caw away at the tops of it.
