the sky is weeping
for the loss of
a loving mother
a supportive daughter
a caring friend
at the blooming age of 33
the wind is raging
against her murderer
a chameleon charmed his way
into her innocent heart
a fungi corrupted her being
eventually caused her to
lose her defence
she is lying in repose
a beauty covered in rust
like a tainted rose
the rambunctious head of the household
submissive yet overbearing advocate
dependents running wild
in the confine of farming life
leather face old man that hunts with a rifle
she runs over little lambs for feast
children grew up witnessing these normalities
one of the children
was convicted of second degree murder
the noise of the struggle
screaming, screeching, pleading
he had to bring them to silence
when you apply the transitive logic
it all makes sense
it has been a long week
the nights have been extra trying
without knowing if
his name will be cleared
little Leila has nightmare again
screaming down the duplex
she is racing up the stairs
almost trips over her own slippers
she holds Leila to calm her shakes
kissing her head and humming ‘edelweiss’
her sobs and shakes subside
her eyes are on the squirrel
trapped inside the snow globe
she follows Leila’s gaze
tips the snow globe upside down
the snowflakes flying all over the squirrel
just before she puts it back on the side table
her fingers feel the stickiness
she turns it over again
and sees the crimson edge of the snow globe
it has been a long week
the nights have been extra trying
without knowing if
his name will ever be cleared
now that her suspicion
finds its substance
