Sunday, 16 August 2009

Waiting too long

Always alone
by the thrown tree—
his moan now woe.

Blue skies his low.
Best was snow or
rain—though love missed.

On death, she kissed.

He waited as he always waited—outside by the fallen tree.

.....The worse days were sunny and blue when the children danced to school. But on

rainy days when the children trudged by he could always imagine her wanting to


.....Not even her death stopped him waiting.

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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.