Willow

She's searching under the Willow. Where she cast the metal of promise- As hollow as the center; a broken covenant. His image, static in her mind. Glaring as she tosses beer cans into The fire. Cleaning up his mess, again. Blinking eyes fight to push him away. Rivers run black across her cheeks As the night accepts her howl as The wind it should be. If only she could become the storm Stirring in her shadow. If she could become the flames. Melt that damn ring. And all the terror it keeps inside. She places her hands over the fire. Closer, and closer. Trying to understand what it feels Like to feed off destruction. They way a man like him must feel. But she just feels the burden Of burning. Her hands red, Eyes black and dry. Accepting the nature of it all As the flames glint off what She hoped would be her closure- She smiles through the salt. He is fire. She is rain. And, the clouds are gathering. -James Kelley 2019