dying….
dying….
pretty pictures hang on a wall,
simple furniture scratches and all
a rug that had seen better days
dingy windows with broken panes.
shimmers of light show through
curtains raveling from their hangers
a woman sits quietly in her rocking chair alone
remembering the sounds that were present so long ago
now – silence is all she hears,
the children come no more,
the babies don’t need fed
her husband buried over and over each day
cobwebs covet the lampshades
dust settles like sand dunes
life is gray except on rare occasions
when only one splash of color escapes her…..
when in a fleeting moment a prism of color comes
when the sun catches her tears just right
as they fall from her eyes,
yes – a moment of color escapes her
leaving her soul,
she sighs in relief, one more moment gone,
she counts away the time
by the ticks of the hands echoing in the silent house
the clock that marks
the passage of pain
the passage of sanity
the passage, she prays, of her
soon the house will be empty,
stillness gone because she’s no longer there
unable to recognize what only she heard,
the death of a grieving soul…..
copyright by Kristy Tallman – November 1, 2008
