Saturday, April 06, 2019

Flurry

I sat there thinking life unfair
As gentle snow fell down
While she was at the precipice of death
Then suddenly I could swear
I saw her in her gown
A spirit who had gasped her final breath

I wondered if she knew the way
Across the yawning chasm
That I imagine separates the planes
She disappeared into the gray
A newly formed phantasm
While I conferred respect to her remains.

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