Tuesday

Outside
                        It's grey, overcast, very still.
                        While pulling a few stray stubborn weeds
                        from the thirsting, dry garden
                        she notices a cool morning breeze
                        Such a rare visitor
                        she observes out loud
                        to no one but the tree
                        which stands patient and quiet
                        while the wind teases and fondles
                        its upcoming autumn leaves
                        Then, memories come slipping in
                        like a slow, infinite breath of clean air
                        Rushing her with thoughts of him
                        kissing her, holding her, loving her
                        A wet greeting falls upon her skin
                        teardrops for her thirsty soul
                        Because...
                        she pauses to remind herself
                        It's not going to rain today