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WRITING WITH WEEPING WORDS

Lucinda runs through the forest,
runs past the barren fields, runs
past the lucid waterfall, runs
with her tears, leaving seeds of despair.

Roses with thorns grow most beautiful -
red, pink, yellow, white, as she grieves,
running, always running, with her paper
and pen. She’s fallen with her scissors
until she’s almost dead, snipping away

the times of her life spent with him. She
sees him flirting with her in the barn,
teasing with the hay, hiding until she giggles
then he grabs and kisses her, like he loves her.

Lucinda runs through the verdant grass
past the dandelion seeds, runs as a doe
frightened by the hunter’s arrows, runs
with her tears, scattering seeds of despair.

Dandelions pop up, sending sunshine through
the playful grass.  A young girl sits in their midst
fashioning a necklace while the bees buzz around her.

Lucinda pauses, squeezes out her paper, to begin again.
The emotional tide, floods the grass, weakening the weeds,
uprooting the girl, who sails to her home. Lucinda writes
with watercolor pencil, colors blend as she adds her tears.

Memories of a proposal, on bended knee, under a sturdy oak tree.
Later the same day, she would find her intended kissing a frog,
and she would taste the bitter warts. How long, she wondered,
had he played her? She continued to weep with her words,

as nature meted out a cure with its meticulous beauty and strength,
not a tear was wasted, but rather tasted, a saltine splash
savored until the knotty oak placed Lucinda’s palm inside
its favored diamond in the rough, a young buck who would love only once.

10/5/2017
Broken Wings’ It’s the end of the forms series

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