Loneliness creaks her bones through their life,
From the very well of her being she drinks up her despair,
Surrounded by the shadows of vitality
In their children, their cars, their clothes -
No man will have her now, as she echoes on the landscape,
A faint shout too dried up to care:
But she cares.
The shades are welcoming her in,
The door’s around the corner, a little open:
But still, she’s a woman, she’s alive.
Husk-breath escapes her thoughts,
Her soul shivers as it’s beckoned,
The vestiges of the long dance prey on her mind.
There’s a yearning,
A call to the soul of the wild,
To very life itself, faint and distant,
Melancholic but insistent,
Before she says goodbye.
