The waters

Beneath a studded moon
The bones lay fragile limbre atop the soil,
She has walked for many miles, the horse has galloped a way. She weeps beside a narrow stream, her sobs are belly deep, nature’s promise of new rains is to descend on the girl with the half moon scar and the missing sun beam in her eye. Where will she go now, who will she become, the jester who danced before her, the Gypsy who predicted a polite future to say the least has disappeared. Where has she gone now, where have they all gone? Where is home? As she picks up her feet and begins to walk slowly dragging her limbs, a moonbeam shines down on the stream, the waters are muddied, but she must drink, she must restore ,the waters.

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