A whisper in the wind, a touch of sunrise in the sky, Upon the porch, she sits letting time ease by. The old wooden rocker creaks and groans, And old Blue opens his mouth with a big yawn.
The old hound never wanders off he is always by her side, Her guardian angel since the day her man died. A tune travels through her mind and a hum passes her lips, Keeping time against the arms of her chair with her fingertips.
Eyes closed, her love she seeks just to touch his memory, He is lost to her. Gone. Except the light in her dreams. She reaches out as her tears slide from her eyes to her cheek, She does not bother to wipe them, let them roam free.
Release. Oh, such pain even though many years have gone by, She wants to touch him. Hold him. Just to kiss him one more time. It is not possible, this she knows, but it does not lessen the pain, She screams she cries, she mourns, and the tears fall like a deluge of rain.
© Cynthia Clark