The silence embraced her as
she arrived; a comfortable calm
with open arms, a place of welcome.
She stood with confidence under the
boughs of a great tree. Holding her place.
Patient. A light breeze rustled the edges
of her dress. The leaves above pressed
out a soft motion. In her hand were
flowers, freshly removed from the field.
Their stems strong like her; both resolute
to wait.
The sun appeared full. Small clouds competed
for space. She hummed a song, tapping her
foot. It wasn’t boredom encouraging her to
leave, but hunger. She placed the bouquet by
the tree, selecting a path back home, until
tomorrow.
Roger Singer 