I recall the whispers of a dying voice;
The forthcoming shadow of who she once was;
The soft laments from a withered, wearied frame,
Enervated by the concoction of bottles and morphine---
Alternating between states of repose and reality, often electing the former.
Tears were eschewed by those around her,
Seeking not to meditate on the inevitable,
But to celebrate a life of felicity and accomplishment.
The hours ceased not in their transit.
Spring dawned and left;
Summer arrived and departed;
The showers came and abated;
The flowers bloomed and decayed.

I recall the silence that morning.
The silence that rendered mute the laughter;
The silence that brought the dolorous realization;
The silence that spoke of her departure.