Karin’s Tears & Plastic Hope

We can’t see Karin’s tears
but the hollowness behind her eyes
and the strained lines,
(that no you’re-worth-it cream can hide),
expose the shadow falling on the day side
of her moon-slapped face.
Karin’s tears fall from the jagged height of her heart
crashing on the earth of her soul
hoping to find a seed
thirsting for her salt.
They find only imprints of muddy boots
patrolling the great market
where silent tears fertilize sales
of plastic flowers promising fruits of hope.

“Respect the drops! They belong to the clan of the storm.”
Dartwill Aquila