A different kind of cold settled
in them as they poured through the door
into the bleak grandiosity of the lobby.
A group of grievers:
Her ashen husband and their two daughters, 12 and 20,
Her two sisters dressed in black fleece
and Her mother with freshly bruised knees.
The night was agonizingly short once they arrived.
Prayer and hope for rehabilitation
between questions about resuscitation.
Her mother clung to the cruel Almighty
While Her husband clenched his fists at the chaplain.
A Stroke of an instant induced a transformation of lives
as Hers ended beneath the blinding fluorescence.