They found her dried tears
at the beach
beneath the sand;
in a phone booth
where calls came from;
inside Cruelty's Eye;
at the edges of Sharp Words,
in eddies whirling in Mean-Spirited Space;
in the crevices of a Frowning Brow;
in the Back Hand and redden cheeks;
in the tracks of her Child-Hood memories;
on carpeted floors
where she had lain,
face down, soul squashed.
They found her tears
had tears at the end-
had become a deluge-
washed out to sea.
But they didn't find her.
She was gone;
traces of her smile
tho lingered on;
her things of lace, her sad face
in the photographs,
her mild regards
her notes
signed Millicent;
the dark doodles on her high school books.
He finally called
and she rose
on Rainbowed Air
tear by tear
fluttering high-
one by one
cleaned and cleansed
and placed
into a new-born's
baby eyes
and some
were carefully placed
inside child smiles
where joy reins.
Lonnie Hicks
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dry-tear-down/
