when it rains in scotland
the glistening shimmering skies
are a shade called wistful

the beasts of tears and anger
tired, beat by their own fury
collapse by the banks

and in the middle a pool,
deep, deeper than the original sorrow
fills with memories. snapshots. echoes of words.

footprints. of a beautiful,
vibrant passionate life
that died so impotent, so young