He scrambled over to the leaf pile,
and started digging around,
it seemed as if he searched a mile,
probing,
trying desperately to find some hint,
a trace,
he grimaced a moment,
twisted face,
lost of faith,
then he felt something,
but it wasn’t vaguely a living matter,
it was cold, rough,
it tried to be tough,
dead for days,
ran through his mind,
as trauma plays
in his head,
he looked around in confusion,
his daughter’s dead…