Sitting at her desk. Lonely and cold, her husband still lying in their warm bed. The thoughts whirling in her mind. There’s no one that she can share her thoughts with. Her fears. Her dreams. Her nightmares of day and night. The fight is hers and hers alone.
The wind today is fierce just like her mood. She tries to run against the strong current of all the despair. The earth, the trees, the leaves, the darkness joins her race. But everything has its own pace.

Movement, improvement
No words for anyone to hear
Falls on a deaf ear

The branches are destroyed. They snap, crack away from the tree. Alone, left lying on the road. A motor runs over the branch. It snaps, cracks, splinters and the branch are no more.

The stare becomes bare
Bumble bees, hornets and wasps
Pierced by the sting

She’s bewildered by the people, the earth and the trees. Natural destruction. Elimination of all of those things. She feels the separation between life and loss. The roots run deeper, thicker, swelling underground clinging vigorously to mother earth.

The paper is a
Pure relief. Writing shadows
Of grief. A release.