1941, Nova Scotia Poem by Xixi Cape

The quiet artist stares in the dark.
Teardrops flow down her moist cheeks on to the floor.
Her eyes are shut strongly,
so she doesn't have to see the figure in the dark.

All she sees is a vision of her past and future.
She projects an image of him on her eyelid wall.
The picture of him she will never forget.
That cloudy day in April walking to the produce market.

He looked back and smiled, a modest smile.
His eyes were so pleasant.
They never appeared the same way after.
...the smile and eyes.

Another image comes across her mind.
Of that rainy day on the last of June.
He held her so close and so tightly.
They both shivered to the rhythm all around.

From the nonstop raindrops.
From the grasp of a heartfelt cry.
From the fast-paced heartbeats.
Clutching her, red floral dress.

His words of love couldn't escape his tongue.
The quiet artist continues to sob painfully,
as the vision of her last memory of him comes clear.
He stumbled in her bedroom window and
landed on top of her.
They explored their own passion,
without hesitation.
The feeling, the emotion was so rightfully true.
The artist opens her tear-filled eyes
in the quiet dark.