There I was one nation
under God admiring poetry
on her last mattress of
metaphors right before she'd
say no more and I knew in this
barely awake state
she was congealing
on the cellular level  
toward it doesn't matter no more,
but I kept whispering in her ear
"You are beautiful"~
one last limp effort to
tranquilize the transformation and
when she gave up everything
for sight beyond this world
I realized what a crumb I was

Written by Sara Fielder © Oct 2016