Sustenance

Those tears of sadness they never stopped.
Those incessant clutching of teeth, lips pursed and head tilted
to balance the sorrow and pain precariously on her frail shoulders.

The pain never stopped. It's trajectory different from
the last time but it never diverted.
Her salty globules are staining the roots of the willow tree
as she sat under it with her despondent heart.
A companion to the weeping willow.
This autumn has taken away more than its
share of crumpled leaves.

The frail skeleton of this tree
resembles her bony self,
as she waits patiently for his return.
Only to scratch the inner of her red eyelids
matching the red polka dots of her dress.

she has waited long enough
for the sadness to arrive
despair suited in the pinstriped suit,
and decked up in the hat
only to dupe her again of happiness,
which takes the shape of a ring.

Gold-plated and shining from a distance
This is what the hope looks like, she says,
with teary eyes.

Sustenance

Her tears falling,
seeping the tangled roots of the willow
the only sustenance,
the fickle solace
she can give.