The Dry Tear Down Poem by Lonnie Hicks

They found her dried tears
at the beach
beneath the sand;

in a phone booth
where calls came from;

inside Cruelty's Eye;
at the edges of Sharp Words,

in eddies whirling in Mean-Spirited Space;

in the crevices of a Frowning Brow;

in the Back Hand and redden cheeks;

in the tracks of her Child-Hood memories;

on carpeted floors
where she had lain,
face down, soul squashed.

They found her tears
had tears at the end-
had become a deluge-
washed out to sea.

But they didn't find her.

She was gone;

traces of her smile

tho lingered on;

her things of lace, her sad face
in the photographs,
her mild regards
her notes
signed Millicent;

the dark doodles on her high school books.

He finally called

and she rose
on Rainbowed Air

tear by tear
fluttering high-

one by one
cleaned and cleansed

and placed
into a new-born's

baby eyes
and some
were carefully placed
inside child smiles
where joy reins.