She pranced barefoot in the park
Caught fireflies in the dark
Believing every day a lark
From the moment they begin.
Joking of smoking like a train
Sucking cigarettes as if sugarcane
Strolling with one down Lover's Lane
Accompanied by a violin.
She knew who played that fiddle
Yet to the end chose to diddle
And find answers to the riddle
Of what waits once we've shed our skin.
Having no faith in oncology
Trusting herbalists and astrology
She offered no apology
As the minister came in.
Last rites were said and thus she died
By then all of us dried-eyed
Most aware of how hard she tried
Without any real chance to win.
Artist, musician, lyricist,
Sister, wife and mother head the list
Of memories that shall long persist
In the hearts of her surviving kin.
May 30, 2014