She Walks -photos and poetry-raw writing

the elusive purple pond

She walks

she wants to see what is real

on this cold morning

to the purple pond it seems

something you could see in a dream

with a slight limp, she hopes no one sees

she will walk anyway

when she gets there the vibrancy is gone

and the pond is dark

She remembers those days

so long ago when this was a field

they would sled and pick mulberries

now houses stand on the hill

so many houses.

So many of people she used to know

now they look down on her from the hill

Where are they now?

Do they see the sunrise?

Are they on their devices?

Have they missed this fading beauty of the sunrise, like I have?

She stands alone

and knows if they would zoom out, she would be a blue dot by the pine tree

She starts to cry as she grieves her past, and so many she has known

What is next in her life

as the day gets colder?

She knows there is a spark, inside that will always keep her warm

it will warm her when loneliness creeps in

because her time has been spent

behind the screen

and she wonders how they are

and realizing, the ones on the hill

she hasn’t thought of at all

it was if she was in a dream

life didn’t exist in this realm

and now she is awake no matter how short

she walks back to her home

it is becoming a new day

it is looking gray

she hopes to see more glimpses

of what is real

and maybe she will feel