Pure

A poem with some christian symbolism. One person becomes whole again.

Walking down the street.
Stride in Stride
The girls were silent
There was never anything to say

They knew each other
Like a wolf knows loneliness
Or, if you will
How a night owl knows it's prey

The wind didn't touch them
It wove it's way around
Their tall frames, dead faces

Everything they touched, or saw
Withered, they devoured it
The girls weren't demons, no
They were something more, or less

It could have been years
But quite suddenly, they paused
As something fell into her hand,
Pure white, it did not whither

One of the girls faces came to life
Not so that anyone could notice
But it was there

It doesn't matter which girl
For they were now one and the same
If you looked closely you might notice
A light hidden in her eyes
Or maybe not

Very softly, in her hand
A single dogtree flower rested
It fixed her there
Never again was there two girls
Walking down the street