There can be beauty in death
Not often but enough to soften
The goodbye, bright colors as leaves die
Or a sigh of release, at last at peace

Blanket wrapped around, her small body in the ground
A shroud, silence never sounded so loud
As the shovel buried my very
Beating heart, broken apart
The decision to end, only way to tend
Her pain, though mine remains
Behind and intact, guilt-wracked
I dry my eyes but salt still stings long after the cry