ThirstyFountains

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower, But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf; So Eden sank to grief. So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay...   --Robert Frost       .  .  .  .  .      The evening chill reflected what she felt within her heart. Stepping out of the car, she inhaled slowly as she rested her head against the frame. Swallowing tears, she turned and approached the walkway guarded by two blood-red brick pillars. She tried to bury the memories and pretend that she was walking into a garden instead of a cemetery.  "A garden of souls," was her thought. Shaking her head abruptly, she touched her foot to the grass. Hesitating only a fraction of a second, she continued. Her legs could no longer hold her so she sunk to the ground. She knelt then, not caring if she stained her clothes on the slightly damp grass. Folding herself into an ...

        If someone stepped into her room they would see a girl's form lying on her bed. If they had stopped long enough to view her more closely they would have seen a tear-stained face, surrounded by medium brown hair that spilled over her pillow. Her pillow was a brown plaid that held the words "Live," "Laugh," and "Love" on a piece of burlap. Now, did she feel like living? Absolutely; but right now, she wanted to rest her tired soul and body. Was she laughing? Of course not; horrific images tormented her. Last, but certainly not the least, did she love? Awe, the poor thing spent her days trying to make one laugh, comforting another, or serving one more. She loved as fierce as one could hate! Sometimes, it physically hurt when she was rejected that love. She felt the pain most in her heart and throat. Such pain, she could not describe except to say that it felt like a vise-like grip that threatened to consume her if she did not persevere. So she d...