Teardrops in my Soup

By , Clarkston, MI
Falling slowly
they land
like raindrops
in the ocean
enough to make it flood.
I sit myself down
with a spoon in hand
and watch ripples in the water
where each teardrop lands.
The bowl is blue
like the rain outside
or my feelings or mood
so early this summer day.
Teardrops silently slide
down my cheeks
and into my soup.
I don’t want to eat
if he’s not here.

RIP, June 8 2010





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