Bright Skies and Olive Trees

She is a delicate fabric
Woven from many cloths
And she cries in the night.
.
She cries because her man
A passionate colourful fellow
Has been killed in the fighting.
.
She is just back
From his sombre funeral
Where she sobbed uncontrollably.
.
Now the tears flow
Silently down pale cheeks
Warm with emotion.
.
She will wear black
Until the mourning is done
Until his spirit is at rest.
.
The house feels desolate
Since his abrupt passing
She would like to move
.
If only she had the money
And nobody would buy a house
In this bullet-riddled neighbourhood.
.
She takes up her quilt
And begins to sew
A delicate pattern
Of bright skies and olive trees.