The Swan
Looking down at her in the casket,
I recall the days her lissome body
swayed like a willow upon the stage.
How she loved ballet,
especially the ballet called Swan Lake.
Also, how she loved the Lord!
Then the cancer came.
She was so young. Even in the throes of it,
like Job of old, she would simply not
besmirch the name of God.
How graceful she was even in death,
for she was in agony until the very end.
I respectully observe her in celestial repose.
She is still a dancing swan whose soul no one can pinion.
To the firmament she has taken flight.
Her sojourn on this earth was brief,
yet her faith and courage live on
in the hearts of those of us who loved her and always will
forevermore
May 29, 2018 for John Hamilton's Eight Word Challenge-4 Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2018
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