Woman of Blue

Olivia Eberwein, Senior, Biology, Fort Worth, TX


Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?


Thy face is red, a roses flush

Thy eyes drop the dew of the morn

Wet petals wilt thy lips of lush

And ground poinsettias paint thy cheeks adorned.


Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?


With eyes immersed in purple shade,

Thy mouth drips a waterfall of scarlet haze

Thy lips tremble as the rivers cascade

And thy eyebrows are lost in thy wandering gaze.


Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?


With smooth skin of the whitest pearls

And a marble neck, kissed by the lips of man  

Covered in brown long runlets of silk curls

That end where thy breasts began.


Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?


Thy flesh entangled in that mirthless root

Thy toes enthralled in that festering dirt

Where plants are unable to bear fruit

And women decay and women hurt.


I cry for the women the river stole

The ones he liked and swallowed whole

Consumed they were in the rivers lust

Eroding their souls into dust.


The rivers’ name shan’t ever be said

The lips that dare whisper will soon be dead

But he won’t allow us to slip away

Rather under his water he wants to play.


The sickest of games you could ever divine 

As he whips and lashes and gulps his wine

Dark red flows down his lips and mine

But mine has not altered his absent spine.


These bones went missing long before I

Before he threw me from his river to die

Along with the others’ who wouldn’t comply

And this, poor girl, is why I cry.