Green

the hue imbued with peace

for her soul; verdancy

rustling in a morning breeze.

Grey

the skies as canvas for birds

in forward flight,

to their unique freedom ever moving.

Pale

she stands, her feet here remain,

sunk deep in dark soil heavy

with memory, with pain –

of broken promises,

of cutting losses, and skin;

bruised bones and a weakened spirit

black.

White

the clouds passing by now, so high above.

A starved breath clears her head,

fills her lungs, expands her fragile ribs

with that singular surviving hope

of being enough, more than enough

in being safely

alone.

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