It Is Time To Go
The room is small,an unpleasant odour fills the air
She lays motionless.
Deathly pale, covered in a sheet of cotton
A lock of golden hair strays from a linament bandage.
I clasped her hand, blew on the tiny fingers
breathing life into them.
silence all around, an aspiration offered
I said my goodbye, it is time to go.
Copyright © Marie Roche | Year Posted 2008
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