Caretaker, groundskeeper, grave digger.

My job, an empty pit.

Occasion turns to routine.

I count the days. Months.

White. Pink. Red.

October to April.

War wages on.

Neutrality is a blessing?

I try to keep my eyes open. Or closed.

I can't tell which one these days.

My care wears thin.

. . .

I reminisce of days content.

[From itch.io]