Exhausted
Collapsing down the storm damaged wall
Into a crumpled heap
50 feet below
The precipice of my heart
Watching my tears erode my cheekbones
Like ancient rivers
Cutting into the canyons that are my soul
I observe my breath
In and out in and out in and out
In deep wailing staccato bursts
I dream of the Cape and sand mountains
That you and I climbed with golden
Slivers shining on us
As summer turned to fall and the waves
Began to crash with a churning burning
Ferocity
When you pledged eternity amongst the sea grass
Time did not stop
And here I sit, heaving
Grieving
Alone
Women of God can never be like women of the world. The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity. Margaret D. Nadauld
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