thaw by Emily Sullivanthe snow melted today.
the sound of water trickeling about
and rushing together.
and looking at the ground
there is no more white purity
but mud and rocks
as if a drawn out battle between men
had just been faught.
a battle with no winners,
no victory.
just heartache, memories
and tears.
and yet it rains.
pouring down and piercing the ground.
flooding all around
within its gloomy sky,
saturating the heart.
minute after minute
day after day
it rains.
and the feeling remains.
asleep in the night.
nothing but the sound
of water trampling the ground.
thunder crashing,
comforting this
precious ache.
awakened by a sudden
silence.
must be a dream.
morning arrives.
stumbling out of bed
into the still darkness.
peering out the window
with glazed eyes
squinting into the colors
of a new day.
lifting up my arms,
bathing in the rays
of a new sun
smiling, a single tear
runs down my cheek
as if cleansing away
the last of the sadness.
green grass grows
where there once was
a void of dirt and stone.
through the cracks of cement
grows a single wildflower
crimson in color,
it reaches up to the blue sky,
a survivor.
and i am strong.
10/28/2003 Author's Note: i wrote this when i was 16. i came across it the other day, feeling kind of blue and it gave me a little pick me up.
Posted on 10/29/2003 Copyright © 2025 Emily Sullivan
|