Tuesday, May 26, 2009

She sits in a corner of her one room house This is what she has left A little hand reaches out Reaches for comfort But is ignored A single plate lies on the ground Few dry rice flakes is all it contains It has been their meal, three days ago Bags under her eyes tells out the sad story One single picture stares back at her from the cracked, moss grown wall A smart man, around 28 years of age stands there proudly Next to him, a young woman dressed in white, smiles An angelic image This had been a happy day This had been a day that two had become one But he is only a memory to her now A little hand reaches out once again Only to be rejected, again She cannot bare look upon the little child The little one whom she bore The little one who was formed through their blessed union This was all she had of him now Yet she couldn’t bare look upon that which brought memories Memories of happier times Fruitful times Shared times A cold wind rushes into the house Foundations shake violently as another storm draws near Rising up she walks slowly Finding the last bit of candle She lights it, knowing it wouldn’t last the night She places it beneath the picture As she stares into it once again Tears begin to flow freely Memories of a dark day He was no more “Died in the battle field, serving the county” That was all that the letter contained His body lay in an un-named grave, in no-mans land She didn’t see him Not even his still cold body All of him that she had now was the child Little hands reached out again This time in tears Wiping her own she reaches out Taking the child to her breast She sat once again Her eyes fixed on the photograph The candle was almost gone