Thirteen years and it still lives in the heart.
This poem was prompted by an exercise in couplets, but i guess it didn't turn out exactly that way. I am very calm today, despite a very hectic week in the office.
image by dsnake1
I helped her up from the bed,
her frail bony body trembling,
the bedsheets damp from the pain,
and fed the painkillers into
her parched mouth hoping
it will ease her sufferings.
There was fight in her eyes,
she will not give up easily,
as i forced a plastic smile,
hoping she will live till christmas,
as i repeated to myself,
damn it, no tears, she will not want it this way.
I was at her grave, with the flowers
and incense, her ashes just a stone slab away,
and i ran my fingers down the indentations
in the marble that was her name.
I remembered how i had ran these
same fingers down her svelte body
in a darkened room, when we were
younger and unsure,
the soft moans, the mad entwining
of hot bodies,
and i smiled and cried and called her name.
the image is a scan from a birthday card.