Torn papers fly across the river,
a gentle breeze brushing across the smooth brown hair of a young maiden,
while she continues to search the box taken from the earth.
She tears the empty and soulless papers that line the box,
trying to find the flowers and gems hidden underneath.
The evening sky begins to mimic the crackling flame beside her,
when she finally spots a letter.
Her gentle hands grip the letter, tearing it at the edge,
revealing paper signed with marks.
The ink is fading, and the paper is yellow as daisies,
yet the marks of lines and dots glisten as brightly as the aging past.
The maiden stands, smiling at the letter, when it escapes her touch
after a sudden wind.
The frantic maiden jumps over the river and catches the letter,
before the cold water embraces her.
The maiden sits up and laughs at herself for what she’s done,
but to her, it was worth the thousand lashes of her mother’s tongue,
for she had almost been lost across the currents.