Here So Nobody Sees Me Cry
Kohl is nightfall when
her bright hours decrease
etching the silhouette of trees ;
Beneath drooped willows,
grief ‘s ache unravels
a mourning in fallow shade
wrinkled as petals, cold...frigid.
How her isolation throbs again again
spring blossoms drying in a vapid sky;
That gushing out into soft rain
lamentation is a woman's reply ,
much like an old maiden
without a fertile soil of a home:
Murmurs of branches
deepen a caressing tune.. and she
hums a choked melody, ' I'm by
this window panting ' here where
nobody sees me cry...'
and allaying eve’s beleaguered wail ;
crystal dew pours on grounds
misty like her fluid tears… ebbing.
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2026
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