Clara
Caroline Cutting | Daniele Murtas
It was just after dark when Clara came to me.
She dragged in her wake the shadows of my guilt; all black edges and sharp teeth. Her soft tones surrounded me as she told me it was OK, she understood, it wasn’t my fault.
Her smile warmed the twilight air and smoothed the creases of my soul. Her eyes held my heart in their warm caress as she settled by my side.
We sat overlooking the sea, the wind played with the tall grasses and wild flowers around our feet, as we talked of the songs we used to sing and the words that meant so much.
We held hands and danced to the unheard music of the stars overhead. Shards of the moon caught in her hair and on her skin as the night turned on and dawn threatened to break free of the nights’ embrace.
As the razor edges of the dawn slashed the horizon, my heart chimed with sorrow.
All too soon the October eve became the November day. My eyes once more captured the grace of my love as with a kiss before sun rise Clara was gone, leaving smooth marble and etched words to take her place.
