It ended in the shed
down in the woods
where daddy keeps his tools.
Mama was crying.
I saw her through the window.
Her face wet with tortured tears.
She twisted the ring off her finger,
hurling it at daddy’s face.
His eye caught the cold gold band.
He bled a single tear,
and it trickled down his white shirt,
making a thin line towards the front of his jeans.
She stopped crying,
watching as the red line pointed
at his crotch like an accusatory finger.
The havoc inside her burst
with the violence of a thunder storm.
Throwing her head back and shrieking
until her love for him spilled forth
and seeped into the hard, dirt floor.
He shook his head,
tears and blood staining his shirt.
It was nothing, he pleaded.
So soft I could barely hear the words.
It was nothing.
He reached out for her,
a drowning man in a sea of guilt.
She looked past him
with a blank stare
and a hollow heart
and left him there
in the shed
with all the other tools.
*I will soon be selling the vintage tools pictured above. Please check my About Page for my ebay store link.