seem black, cold, dead.
Even her soul felt empty.
Yet she walked past the debris,
crumbled buildings once holding
the livelihood of the town.
Hard to imagine her dealer's
trailer not perched on the hill.
Coal miners laughing, good times
that happened, all before her birth.
This is her own test, to pass or fail.
It was only life and death at stake.
One wrong step would take her
racing toward bottles of cheap beer,
people nodding or speeding,
the choice would be hers.
Lifting her chin in defiance,
she shows no sign of the longing,
aching in her core to be free.
Free from thoughts, emotions,
words, tears, anything joyous.
Keeping a steady pace, a poker face,
she moves on, telling herself
she is trying to stay in shape for Spring.
@ donetta sifford
Written for: VisDare 50 - Remote