My Well is Dry

On Sunday’s I’m posting poetry written by my mother-in-law, Bettie Lou. Writing poetry was a form of therapy after losing her husband and then her youngest son in 1985.

My Well is Dry

My well is dry
But not my eyes.
I’ll wait ‘til morning
“Tears flow through the night
but joy comes in the morning!”

Sunrise from the Hyatt Regency 9th floor
Sunrise from the Hyatt Regency 9th floor