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Writing With Weeping Words

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