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dance, divine
a stroll …
just a stroll … like any other
numberless now, the times this path
had taken her to the wood -
the dark, deep wood where her
memories dwelled
thoughts astray in the gloaming …
the same walk she and her love had taken
the many years he was still with her
many years … now gone
and though her marrow ached
and her brittle bones bent at odd angles,
making each step an effort,
this jaunt was still the highlight of each day
for his spirit dwelled here
in the shadowy, umbral depths of the forest
and she felt closest to him here … now …
she stopped for a moment
for the earlier rain had left a shallow puddle
reflecting the shiny, vibrant colors of
her dress in a late-day ray of sun -
hundreds of tinted pixies
danced about her feet
each one a precious memory -
a laugh, a kiss, a smile from her beloved
endless recollections of a life
as full as any …
oh how she wished he could see
as the dazzled palette waltzed about her
like a carousel of confetti …
but … perhaps it was all his doing -
a message from the warming darkness
that he was near …
that the time had come for him to
finally walk her home …
she smiled, closed her eyes and wished
waiting for the shadows to
wrap their soft arms about her
and the evergreens
to whisper their tender …
farewell.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, April 28, 2024
Copyright ©
Gregory Richard Barden
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