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