I held her hands.
I gazed into
her eyes
and willed her strength.
I smiled.

The merest flutter
of her tremulous
fingertips
suggested she had
understood.

Her eyes, though open,
were unseeing.
Yet I knew
we had a meeting
of the souls.

“Stay with us,” I willed.
“Stay with us;
we are not ready
to let you
go”.

Was there an echo
in response
from her fingers?
Or was it wish
fulfilment?

And did a smile
linger on those
frozen lips?
Unlikely. . .
She was gone.