What is the
sound of death?
A rattle they say
a shaking breath.
But I think a moan
high and keen
with sharp intake
in between or
maybe just a
lonely o
a long and gliding
note that lasts
longer than
we hope
and when
it’s gone
seems brief.
In silence we
miss our grief.
I met words today
from the lady who
could not stay.
Her poem caught me
unawares- my heart
just curious turned
to care, and grieved
in loss for what it found.
For in her words
hope, life resound.
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