Rivulets

A Poem by Ronda

Who has not been hurt by someone and wiped them away like they never existed?

And I watch them flow;
those drops of water,
rejected by the red ground
that the sky so generously
gave as a precious gift.

They move with the mud,
carrying dirt from the past
to another place of freedom
that seems to be able to
provide a welcoming position.

The scars on the earth are as deep
as the ones you gave me
when you added to my
wall of rocks and clay that I have
carefully built to forget about

what
you
did
to
me.