The old cypress steadily marks her walk
Where trembling birds roost under misty rain,
And pauses along a washed-stoned graveyard
Shrouded by tangled vines of littered memories...
Gentle her breath the breeze upon heaving chest
While threadbare leaves stoop on this marsh
Breaths linger deep to caress edges,
That only winds understand a twinship gone...
Just before the stars hung around her prayers
She strides down the lane, to cross a wooden bridge
Until arms of ocean below her throbbing feet
Carry scenes and vignettes of a distant place;
Flushed ashore like slivers of ocean glass.
Contest:Tangled Vines by Constance La France
July 2, 2013