For Karen, Because She Always Has.

For Karen, Because She Always Has.




Bone weary,
the sun pulls me up
to a mourn of
"much to do about something."
The sheets lie rumpled
over a warm hollow
where my dreams were realized.

Yesterday still haunts me,
with memories of a charity benefit
for a dear friend of mine
with ovarian cancer.
Hundreds of eager faces
trying hard not to cry,
as she hobbled up
to greet her sad surprise.

The fall leaves watercolored,
a saline stained picture
of what she may not see next year,
as her daughters tear-dampened eyes
cemented their embrace of love.

Imagine her arrival at a party
that held the face of death,
just under the shadows of a pavilion
decorated with hope
amidst the beams of support.

While underneath
her folds of cloth
an insidious disease
devours her precious days.

I hope she remembers
the many warm hugs,
gift wrapped in flesh,
if death decides to drag her
into the chill of nevermore.

I know she will cherish
each whispered endearment,
when she at last is faced
with giving up, giving in,
and finally giving out.

We are all lessened,
lessoned when we lose
someone we cherish
to the dark side,
We learn that our own mortality
is but a mutation away.
The days glean sharper
and more poignant for us all

She may remember this day of hope
long into her eighties,
or whisper of it's beauty
with her last feeble breath.]\

Godspeed, is my plea

for her recovery
if it is in his will,
scripted for all lives created,
or simply a painless flight,
wrapped in the arms of his angels
as they lift her heavenward
to eternal bliss.

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