The Stone

It was not supposed to be like this
Fear and death a heavy shroud
Hope silenced, sealed with stone
She watched with women who loved

But not as some might
He had seen her

Tears could barely find their way
Down flushed cheeks 

The Sabbath rest held only restlessness

Yet she waited
She had taken care before
Providing what she could
At dawn she would anoint 

The morning light would find her
At the tomb

She would have to move
The stone