“There isn’t much air
left for her
on this earth.”
The dust will soon
be dust
again
Awaiting reanimation
like my heart,
my life
A reincarnation
that is never
what it was
And while her
metamorphosis
sends her to flight
Mine is the seed -
dirt poured
on my head
A baptism
of grief
and darkness.
A husband said the opening words during a Palliative Care consultation. Much was left unsaid, but it seemed the rest might have been implied.
Image from http://www.scienceimage.csiro.au/image/2767