Two figures, black and shadowy 
Bundled up for their snowy hike
Walk in silence 
Only broken by the pattering of a stray’s paws
In icy slush

A darker snow opposite the land lies above them
Like a mountain, only barely distinguishable as sky 
Dark trees lining the horizon parted for
A funeral procession of three

Road wearily stretching onwards
Snow peppered downwards into soft mud
Beaten with footsteps from people passed
Long ago

They move across the empty flatlands
Mourning the sun
And listening for the 
Church bell’s ring