When she comesI don't suppose I'm as depressed as all that. For one thing, I'm not crying at the moment. But I just found that among some papers, and it fits with the sort of gray solemnity I'm feeling. It doesn't help that the gorgeous weather we're having is driving me indoors by encouraging the oak trees to bloom! I can't even open the windows! I'm about to go up to Dallas for a couple of days, where it's supposed to be rainy. Maybe my mood will prove to be inversely proportional to the weather . . .
She comes alone
And sits beside the fading stone.
She waters the silk flowers with her tears
And bows beneath the weight of wasted years.
Others come in twos and threes,
Leave flowers fresh as memories.
But when she comes, she comes alone.
Leaves only tears
Beside the stone.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
I'm having a day. I have them sometimes. Sometimes there's a reason, sometimes not. Here's a poem to suit my mood.
Posted by Laura at 10:43 PM