Roe's Walk
She was far removed from everything
Gazing at the branches heavily laden with red;
An old wife once said it was a sign of bad winter.
But it couldn’t be so bad, she thought,
Not with these bleak hills and
The grey steel waves to comfort me.
Not with this darkness that
Beckons early nightfall,
And soul beseeching tempests
For my own tears to stall.
There was more sadness, she thought,
In the murmering summer breeze
That whispered of wistful dreams
Like the emerald temptress
of a mighty stream, voracious.
But immersed and held within
Runs icy cold and vicious
Over raw trembling skin.
The branches dipped and sighed with her
One leaf fell slowly, waving
Sweetly and lay itself at her feet.
She watched the charging river
Wind past the berried tree
Grew slender, pale
In the midst of the auburn forest,
Like her own translucent limbs
Untouched by love nor lovers now.
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