My Grey Lady

Mist swirls around my feet as I enter the clearing where we used to meet,
It's colder now, more bleak,
The air fills my nose with the freezing reek of winter.
The headstone swims out the haze, and I put down the withered roses and gaze
At the moss-covered slab that rises from the dirt.
And the forest creeps in closer and closer,
And I leave without the necessary tears.
The branches tear at my shirt, and the shadows dance before me, and I hurry back to nothingness.

For I know you are behind me, my grey lady.
And you doth chill me to the bone.