Oh my lady, what ails you so?
You’ve staggered and fallen
Rather ungracefully in the short grass
Alone in this scene
Your dress, it’s bundled at your ankles
The wind licking at your exposed skin
Your hair flowing about
Dark whisps against the pale sky
Oh my lady, I do not see your face
But I know your eyebrows are creased
And your cheeks reddened
In frustration or fright I know not
Are you to shout, to call out?
The house sits
Is it abandoned? Is it not?
Oh my lady, only you know