She was skin and bones, frail
as all skeletal remains become,
with every last breath of life
still sticking to her ribs. Every
exhale came with the burdened
anticipation of the next deep gasp.
Her eyes, a vacuous stare, looking
through me and seeing nothing but
a chance to finally go home to her rest.
Well past the need for words; or the
ability to express the same. Her face
contorted with each painful smile,
pleads in silence for one last embrace.
Wrapping my arms under her absence,
closing around her distance; squeezing
through my need to feel something,
only to fail miserably. A flame, extinguished
well before the light in her eyes had dimmed.
And I stood in her darkness, clinging
to the shadow of her and any lasting
memory that she had left me.
The last time that I held her
was my last goodbye.
Walt
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I have no doubt that she sees the words that flow from your heart, and continues to be stirred by them. Bless you, Walt.
ReplyDeleteWalt, your PAD poem paid her a fitting tribute. I know you will never stop missing her, but I pray the pain will lessen with time and you'll be left only with sweet memories. May the God of all comfort hold your heart.
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