The Leaves Died For You

The leaves died for you.
the September air
that christened your lungs,
that bought you life
and laughter,
did so harshly take their breath
to fill your lungs with air.
Tears fell in the first few months
like rain,sleet and snow,
and the dark winds
that carried their sorrow
did so to protect your home.
The spring that followed
full of lamb,
of daffodils and rain,
bought your first taste of sunshine
and washed the night away.
The summer sun did shine like you,
so young yet just as wise
as the sea that washed over the sands
with tales of the tides

Days Mourning Gown

That far left side, the abandoned road, empty it lies, as passers-by pull in from time to time.  The land beside it filled with new born, a gift, as death leaves the land to mourn the harsh months of past, and blesses the soil with fragile youth not yet tainted by the months to come. A casket heart on a silver chain encloses a photograph, the travelers leave their mark on it, with tire marks and dirt. A memory to keep with the heart; worn into the road. The night begins to dress itself in days mourning gown as it contemplates the day gone by and ponders what will come of the next year.

A short story in which I was asked to include a randomly chosen object, setting, season and time of day without specifically naming them. I was given the setting: hard-shoulder of the motorway, time of day: evening, object: locket and season: spring. I hope I was able to actively conveyed these themes through this short prose without leaving my own writing style behind.