Hidden in her casement,

deceptively passive,

as the sum

of her existence

is dissolved, unwatched,

and wrought anew.

Bitter-blooded

tenderness,

finespun and fiercely held,

may, perhaps,

move the tide

and change the course of rivers.

Emergent,

testing,

powered by sun

and countless, colorful waystations

ablaze with asters.

She stretches her wings

and flies her world

home.

– Written after the death of my sister, Linda, who left this world in the early hours of May 3, 2020.

 

Photo Credit: Patti Black on Unsplash

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