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Brush and Wind
She sat looking at the stream flowing past
She looked at it as it gurgled and chattered fast
The water touched by the ferns and leaves
Gently, as it flows and a path carefully weaves.
She looks back and in her mind sees his face
The memory itself makes her pulse race
She looks back, then hears those hateful words
Pain comes in numerous waves and herds
A brush... a wind... she looks up with tear filled eyes
She looks around, inspired to forget, to rise
Reaching for her tamed curls, she sets them free
Over the steps she runs in her shorts and tee
She leaps into the stream with new found glee
Ever to smile and be happy, here is the key!
Day 0
Pre NaPoWriMo
Image courtesy: airbnb
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