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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1149980
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1149980
The first death I witnessed.
A Time of Going Away

The rushing men filled the doorway,
Pushed through our doors a woman, small and grey
Now shrunken somehow
Hovering two feet above
Her flaccid body, cooling skin
Fibrillating heart.
Her very last soul anchor
Vibrating, threatening to come apart.
Somebody said her name
And it was some kind of end.

Hushed and hurried in our circle of light
Pushing our potions too late
Too late for the survival rite.
Three more electric charms
And she floated away.
Leaving behind flatness
Leaving behind alarms
Leaving us behind to cover her
To put away vanity, tubes and wires
Unhook the frivolous machines.
Leaving us behind with visions,
To whisper,
To marvel at the warmth of our hands,
But mostly,
To lament our own breath.
© Copyright 2006 rlshort (shortmd at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1149980