A flutter on the breeze
and with a soft coo the
dove was gone.

She stood there for a
moment, and watched
as it flew away.

And in that brief moment
she realised just how
fragmented life was.

Just how short life was.

It seemed, time after time,
little birds floated along,
drifting upon the currents
of air. They’d swoop down
just above her, but nothing
more.

But these were not birds
at all, they were the souls
of those who deemed her
unworthy of their attention.

Oh, yes, at first they’d see
a glimmer and upon closer
inspection these fluttering
lives would continue on by.

One would have thought
rain to have fallen, yet
only her tears stained those
pale cheeks.

So, she stood there for a
moment and watched the
sky while the clouds rolled
by like lazy puffs of cotton.