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Aug 2014
My cloudy eyes crinkle as I gaze out at the powdery,
newly fallen snow
My thin hands, ever-trembling, delicately weave
designs in the frost on the glass
I absent-mindedly let my thoughts turn
to the kids and their children
A soft smile warms my skin and I slip
into happy memories of days far in the past.

My vanity is cluttered with images of my late husband
Laughing with his friends after a fishing trip,
Proudly holding up the night’s meal.
Here, see us dancing alone to the lullaby of the fireflies
I remember this moment; swaying under the stars
in the coolest breeze of spring
I silently reach out to touch the man I held so dear,
desperate to feel his warmth again
And, clasping the picture frame, I step over to my bedside
Turn down the light and lift my weary body on to the pillows
I start to drift off, my fingers trailing along
the wooden base of our memories
The love and dedication etched into the detailing
by his strong, rough hands,
The hands that held me up until their brittle bones turned to ash.
I pull the picture frame up to my chest,
Then smile in my sleep, heart contented with his face so close to mine.
Believing we are floating away together, one last breath
of a blissful life is taken--
I'm coming home to you.
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