The sound of droplets falling to the ground was heard.
I saw them collecting on the window pane.
like a tear collecting in the corner of a single eye,
Sliding down
like a stream of broken dreams, dissipating, slipping away.
Outside, orange crocuses popped out of the ground
making merry on a spring-like day.
In other places, people died alone, in pain, before their time.
A sad day was yesterday.
By Tiffany Creek
On Tiffany Creek 