Hard Places

Her mind grips the letter,
like a scorched hand gripping broken rock,
A promise of riches,
while sitting underneath a rain bucket.
The storm thundered,
soft enough from collapsing the house.

A bowl of white rice and dried mango
sit on her lap, she eats.
The aches subside for a moment.

Each family photo gone to the elements,
All are gone. All are memories
she refuses to leave behind.

She bows her head, and thanks God,
Thank you for the bucket, collecting my water.
Thank you for the mango, seasoning my rice.
Thank you for the ruined photos,
reminding me these are memories, I long for the eternal.
Thank you for my aches,
reminding me of my need for you.

Thank you for the riches you’ll send my way,
But regardless, I’m content.
Because with you, I’m well.
I pity all others.