Mourning Sunrise…

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Morning’s sunrise would find a melting trail of footsteps in the wet sandy shore

In answer to the horizon’s call she would journey to the jetty cliffs once more

Hours became days then months turned to years…since the Suns early dawn on her first visit here

He had held her so close in his parting embrace….and she’d refused to cry when he last kissed her face

Long after the white of his sails disappeared…she had gazed at the sky and the blue she so feared

She always wore white to defy the towns talk….for her daily excursion they called her Widows Walk…

Copyright©Murrsma2014

( a re-worked piece)

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