rosary in hand
and hail mary's on her lips
she seemed tired of life

a whisper of wind
how ever so subtle
blew out the flame

a fatal crash --
she was running away
from herself

girl mesmerized by
sixty year old ballerina
in the music box

sharpening up with
milk with knives in it
at the korova

under a light rain
he whispers a short prayer
over his wife's grave