The Widow At the Well
This sonnet, about love, bereavement, and loss, was actually written after my computer broke, and is dedicated to the person who mended it, Chris Greenwood...
She finds herself without him, at the dawn
A crumpled crazy angel weeping light
The cord that bound them severed with a bite
A bloodied mewling kitten newly born
He was the sun, that stimulated morn
The moon, that soothed the melancholy night
He was her inspiration, the delight
Of glittered stars upon the heavens drawn
She finds herself without him, at the well
A widow weeping willowfalls of tears
Of grief as heavy as a drowning stone
The silence breaks; soft rings a sudden bell
And on the solemn deeps a face appears
That whispers ‘All things come and go alone’
© Gail Foster 2016
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