[ CW ] Describe a landscape from the POV of someone who lost someone close to them in a war . Do not explicitly mention the person , the war , or death .

A wind came for me not long after I sat down. My body resisted the urge to shiver and, thus, shook violently for a moment. Grass, overgrown and opaque, rose almost above my head, needlessly protecting my gaze. The sun was setting on the horizon, giving the ground a blood-red glow. 
 
 I sat in that swirl of color for hours. The sky grew darker, unbeknownst to me. My head grew heavy as I stared towards that fictitious line, some drop off where you could step off the earth and float endlessly towards that glowing blood orange suspended in space. I heard the wind ask of me to move so I stood, aloof. No one knew I was here, except for the earth and it's spinning cycle of life. 
 
 The street lamps in the distance began to argue importance with the moonlight. I looked up, across the street where my mother sat, still in her chair on the porch, unmovable since the shiny, black Chevrolet had peeled out of our driveway. In her hands she cradled that flag as if it might leave her alone with her memories should she let it go.
