glitter and gold

I met her at my wife's funeral. The day felt gray and dreary. I think it was raining, because the ground was muddy and dirty, but I can’t remember if it was before or during. Either way, I picked her as the one to talk to because she was the only person I didn't recognize. Everyone else was a relative met before at family dinners only or a friend of my late wife.She was leaning on a tree, hands stuck into her black mantle pockets. She looked at me, solemn and quiet.„I loved her“, I told her when I got to her.„I did, too“, came her answer and she looked at me, solemn and quiet, still.