Beads of rain made blinking eyes of the water,
thousands of strings unravelled, the pond filled,
became agitated.
It was for this I came to the park. To see the day crease,
to assure myself that your death would not pass unnoticed.
The day was a dark mood but the strings transported the sky’s
light
into the pond’s sulking despondency,
and suddenly I was feeling better.
