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Standing by her hospital bed, I didn’t feel the pain
Instead, I felt sorrow that she looked so very frail
Like a rose that’s been sitting in a vase far too long
Slowly losing petals that leave it looking like death
And I knew that it was her time to leave this place

Her strength had always been apparent to her family
She didn’t ever stop except to take a slow drag from
Her Winston, something many believed would kill her
Yet, she didn’t die from smoking, but from living longer
Than she might have expected to live when she was young

As I stared down at her closed eyes and remembered
Dread seeped through my veins, making me tremble inside
Leaving me with a melancholy that would lead me toward
Depression, then despair, and back into fear and tears
That rain down on my soul like a shower pours over the earth

I was drowning in my own words which would not come
Words of compassion and warmth, wailing out a echo of hope
That she might live through this mysterious illness that left her
Feeling like she couldn’t even open those bright expressive eyes
Which had always shown with compassion and insight and wisdom

When I left her there that night with a light kiss on the cheek
I didn’t know it would be the last time I would see her here
On this dismal ground where she had left me to live my life
Despite her death and the grim reminders of her beautiful spirit
Which color me in hues of blue, like her eyes, fiery blue







STRAND COMPLETELY NEW(6),any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
July 6, 2020

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