She sits in the woods

Tipping the water from blackberry leaves onto her hand

The drops fall

And make a clear bubble of hope

For her to look through

She stares at each one

Waiting for it to melt through her fingers

The blackberry girl sits here every day

Waiting for someone

That's never going to come

He left her years ago

But then again

He never really came

She'll sit there every day

Until she's dead

Or he comes back

September 19, 2010