A Diamond On The Wind

She sits upon a pinnacle
high above the dust
where her heart lies
— a stone among stones;
a ruby bleeding red 
among the rubble  at her feet;

casts a wistful glance
across the horizon 
where it fades into a haze
at the edge of the world
with her dreams,
where land blends into sky
with a muted shade of mauve
and she hardly knows  
where she begins
— where to find the line
between who she was
and who she has become.

And she takes a teardrop in her hand
and lets it fall
— a diamond on the wind ;
a fragment of her soul 
floating silent on a sigh —
and waits.
 


august 2005
©Janet Reid