A Moment Before

A wizened smile creeps across a face;
Her mind grasps at a gossamer mist from afar.
She sings the song no one else can hear.
The story always ends with a tear.

A creased brow eases out of pain;
She won’t know what she doesn’t know.
Everyone is ever so very polite.
She doesn’t realize it’s her time to go.

Necessary awfuls await at the door,
When morning comes again to call.
The story always ends with a tear
Which once held close now has farther to fall.


About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on August 27, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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