Frequently the years knock rough edges off a character. In this instance, an acquaintance was on her deathbed before I got to see the lovable side of her personality. A great pity.
In sickness there was only you
light as a feather,
relieved of the weight
of position and pride;
neither bluff nor brashness
nor the strength
to be more than your dying self.
1 comment:
thx rfor you sharing~~learn it by heart ........................................
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