Untitled (#3)

The wind blew cold in St. Paul.
One hand held the toneless phone
the other, my tear-drenched face
My shoulders punctuated each sob
Inside, my heart ached
The sound of my world crumbling
Drowned out the sound of footsteps
Approaching from behind
And Hawkins caught me unawares
He was talking
About what, I do not know
My back did not reveal my despair
And I was glad
I tried to suppress the sobbing
To no avail
Heat rose in my face
Which he could not see
And I wished that he would leave
And that I would run out of tears
I held my breath
Hawkins was no longer talking
Tears kept falling
And I felt the weight of the world
And Hawkins’ hand on my shoulder
Time passed and Hawkins said nothing
But spoke volumes in the silence
A new well-spring of tears now falling
And the wind in St. Paul continued to blow
But not quite so cold

• CaReese Rials
• MSIII