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posted on Jul, 27 2004 @ 09:57 PM
She stands in the middle of the open field, the wheat grass blows gently in the warm summer breeze.

The stalks of grass graze her fingertips as she walks silently in the night towards the giant weeping willow tree. The warm breeze blows gently through her auburn hair. The willow branches dance and play in the wind flashing their shiny leaves in the full moon's light like a little school of silverfish in the ocean.

She sits, leaning against the giant willow. A sigh as no other wracks through her as if the tree itself were sighing with her.

Off in the far distance a large dark, ominous thunder head looms, looking as if it were swallowing the stars themselves. The lightning dances and zigzags through the night sky. The electric charge can be felt in the air and the thunder rolls menacingly in the distance.

The warm summer breeze becomes harsher, sharper and cooler. The crispness causes her to shiver. The Willow's branches dance furiously in the wind.

The cool wind bites at her skin, turning her cheeks a blushing red. Her eyes water. She curls up tighter as the storm approaches.

The Willow's soft branches whip in the wind....biting, snapping all around her in the air. The crackle of lightening lights up the night sky. The clouds come closer still.

The cold rain starts, first as a drop here and there....then gradually forming a fine mist. The cold mist coats her in water and the breeze makes her shiver.

As the clouds roll in overhead she curls up closer to the Willow, searching, seeking, pleading for shelter, safety, comfort. As the downpour starts she cringes as if every drop was a sharp piece of jagged glass cutting deep within her soul. The lightning's shadow casts an eerie glow on her and the Willow.

As the storm starts to roll on she sits huddled against the lifeless... The fog rolls in and eventually envelopes her and she sits Weeping.

The willow, strong, serene, it's branches not moving....weeps with her.


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