Broken Homes
A snow flake falls. The freeze sets in. The heart turns cold, unable to express it's constricting thoughts, unable to beat again. The night lays heavy on two families at war. They fight with one another, once friends from before. The clock ticks on in the silence. Time moves ever on. All souls tormented, even when the light shines, they never really meet the dawn. Death lays it's nimble fingers on these two homes. It sneaks and snakes through the cracks made of concrete and stone. The death of a daughter resonates for those immediate and those known as step. Peculiar she was with a grin beyond her era, a smirk, a laugh, it reminds me of a dancing chime. A smile that withers a mother's rosy completion and has frozen her sense of time. I, myself, remember in that moment as the wind swept back her hair. The new family gathers for pictures, but we just sit back and stare. She smiles a sad smile and looks off into the crowd. I sat there beside her feeling a sense of forebodin