Her hands, covered in dirt. Trembling. Hot streams of tears slide off her checks and onto the broken ground. Her chest heaves and heaves, but her sobs remain silent.
A crow caws, takes flight from the topmost leafless branch of the dead Pinon. One glance over her shoulder. A gaunt, pale face bearing reddened, resigned eyes, still smoldering with the last embers of anger.
The crow circles once. It’s body eclipses the sun for just a moment.
& just like that, she’s gone.
cold wind
only distant leaves
flutter
My Ekphrastic haibun for Melissa Lemay’s Haunted Tuesday Poetic at dVerse.
The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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