This poetry remains the property of the author, Christy Ann Martine. No part should be reproduced in any form without written consent from Christy. Contact poet@light-cards.com

ONE DYING MOMENT

Your eyes follow the faded yellow curtains
as they move like floating angels;
Propelled by the warm summer current.

Years of wisdom etched upon your face,
as you lie now so stilly in the old pine bed.
The one that I carved for our wedding day,
nearly five decades ago.

In your small hand you hold a delicate white lily;
Picked from the prized garden
you so carefully tended to
until you no longer had the strength.

I listen to the clock,
ticking back and forth,
As it hangs on the wall in the kitchen
where you worked so diligently;
Sweet aromas filling the air,
turning a house into a home.

Your hand touches mine
but no words are spoken between us.
The sorrow in your eyes speaks volumes,
Regret of time wasted , days left unappreciated,
Seasons changing swiftly, life drifting forward

You smile now in a final attempt to reassure me
But it's too late now,
The flower falls from your hand,
Life passes my love and I will miss you.

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