My Life In Word

THE LITTLE RED CABIN

In a little red cabin
At the edge of the woods
Lives an old lady named Sue
Her clothes are tattered and torn
Her shoes, weathered and worn
The only things that remain
From the life she once knew
Are a faded photograph or two
That remind her of
Something old, something new
Something borrowed, something blue
When she thinks upon those times
She smiles and she laughs
Then she weeps and she moans
As she tries to figure out 
Why he left her 
To carry the weight of this world
On her own
She wonders why 
He made her his wife
And then took his life
He was the very essence
Of her soul
The other half of her whole

The story goes that 
Many moons ago
In her sadness and grief
She made a hasty retreat
Into the woods
In an attempt to be discrete
In her right hand
She carried a rope
In the other a simple note
Of condolences and goodbyes
Explaining the reason
For her planned demise
But when she reached
The edge of the woods
A little red cabin
Before her stood
She paused for a moment
And took in the scene
That's when she heard
A voice, soft and serene
Whisper through the wind
"My child, 
Today will not be your end
You see, 
This cabin I built just for you
It is sturdy and strong
Tried and true
All of your provisions
Have been provided
And you may stay 
Until your heartache's subsided"
In that moment, she cast aside
All thoughts of suicide
She welcomed the invitation
Without hesitation
Because she understood
That she might find solace
In the little red cabin
At the edge of the woods

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Sacre Bleu on Unsplash

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