The Knitting Poet©

The sound broke over her head like a tidal wave into a cliff. The truth bursting from the depths of what had seemed like insanity. The same way a geyser blows through a hole in the earth. The lies once held to protect them, now falling each, like petals from a tree. She created that pretty tree for the enjoyment of the babes she loved. Giving one last look at its now naked starkness, she bends gracefully picking up her shawl and smiles... It was so tenderly made in silence. Smiling as she wraps herself in its honesty, she walks away silently, from the gnarled nakedness of the whipping tree.