Upon
The white cliff
She stood.
Looking out
Far
Into the distance sea
Before her.
For an answer
That wasn't coming.
A brisk sea breeze
Blew through
Her waist long
Ebony hair.
Fanning it
Out
Across her body
Like a living cape.
Absently
She brushed back
Those loose strands
From her eyes.
The rising moon
Shone upon
Her pale alabaster skin
Washing out
Her facial features.
Except for
A slow steady stream
Of tears
That sparkled
Under the moonlight
Like diamonds.
Otherwise
No movement
Was observed.
But
The moon's passage
Around her.
Little
By little
Her presence
Started to fade away.
As the Moon dripped
In the Horizon.
Dawn lights
Began to brighten
The early morning skyline.
Until
Nothing was left
To mark her
Upon the cliff.
Therisa © 2016
Author's note: A different take, on the traditional ghost story, which the woman is waiting, the return of a love one. And, most of this poem was written, during the wee hours of the night, as my insomnia paid me, its nightly visit.
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