she picked up the beads
that lay scattered
all over the grass

small and tiny
hundreds of them
they lay everywhere
hidden in the greens

she sat for hours
picked them
one at a time
in her palm
she clutched them tight
and rushed inside

took the same string
that had broken earlier
makes the bead-anklet
back she wraps
on her anklet
besides which
was written his name

it hasnt rained this time
yet, i give up not
and look up at the sky

although it hasnt poured
it will wet my soul
i know, i know

and so i wait
it will, i know 

she lay cold and dead
yet her heart was warm
when he touched her
one last time 

even as it turned dead and cold
it left behind a flower to hold