Her tears crooned in tune with the moon
Strumming each lash in a harp like fashion
Her wail riffed and lept from her quaking lips
Dripped
And collected in a pool above her upper lip
Scaled the corners of her frowned
Slowly
As if being lowered down
Each significant to its counter heart
As it followed suit of each of its counterparts
Hands raised enough for the sunlight to glisten in the collected specimens pooled together
If she would just open her hands and let this flow through
Restoring life
Letting the light evaporate the remaining dew
Yet she holds on tightly
As if this pain would be the last thing she was ever allowed to feel
She wept under a row of cherry blossom trees
Sadness hidden beneath falling beauty
As far as the eye could see
Reverse winds stirring
Clearing up the majesty
Exposition
Tragically
I stand here watching
At the end of this road
Non nudgemental patience
Is all I can show