Her Soul aches when the ,
Storm bends her branches
&
She plans her revanche
Her lips quivers when she,
holds back the words
&
She hummes her unspoken chords
She cannot bleed the pain,
She is perceived as oak
on the snow capped mountain…
But, she screams on the paper;
Describing the bee & wildflower….
Weaving all her broken pieces, willpower, strength & struggle
She wears the scars as a festive drapper
