Against Her Will

Dark. Long. Wavy.

Tanned skin. White tattered dress.

Storm building.

Whipping the dust.

She stands. Stoically.

Letting it sting her skin.

Watching in the distance.

Looming clouds. Full of force.

Awaiting it to overtake her.

Patiently. Silent.

 

No tears. None left.

Waste no more. She vows.

No one returned the favor.

In the eternity. Before now.

A difference in the winds.

Once hot. And sticky.

Becomes cool, and warning.

Looking up at the sky.

Overhead. No mercy given.

To those foolish. To be out.

Warning no longer heeded.

As the roar makes her deaf.

She stays. Steadfast.

No worry about it taking her.

 

Praying. For it.

As an easy answer. To her life.

Her hair stands on end.

As the crack hits. Nearby.

Cursing the indirection.

That the forces are showing.

Her fate. More a sacrifice.

As she wills the end. To show itself.

Hoping. That her fight. Will be taken.

And thrown to the East.

The calm comes too soon.

Her dress hangs. Limply.

Dusting her legs. With broken threads.

As the tears now run.

For she is still. Standing.

Against her will. 

                    ~K.A. Pitman