Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Death Didn't Part

A woman walks up a steep hill.

She does it twice every day before

she eats breakfast

and before she goes to sleep.

Her journey is long,

the air is hard to breath,

and without her cane

her muscles would give out halfway.

The hill is a high steep incline,

with rocks in certain locations.

If she were to lose her footing

then she would surely be killed.

She has never missed a day

and the weather is never a factor.

The clouds don’t control her desire

to make it up the hill.

She has struggled through

rain, wind, thunder, and snow.

She has crawled through

ice, mud and has never slipped.

She doesn’t forget the danger,

she knows all the risks

even at her old age.

It doesn’t stop her from her desire.

She goes when she has a cold,

when her temperature boils,

 and her arthritis is in effect.

What’s up that hill is her heart.

A cross that’s been there for a decade.

Underneath it, is the person

who gave his heart to her

and made a vow she broke.

They swore till death do them part

but she hasn’t left him

even after he left.

She lives, as if he still does.

She puts on a pot of coffee,

she goes up that hill,

kisses the cross

and says, “Good morning.”

During the day.

She keeps their chairs together,

 she’s watches their shows,

and tend to daily events.

She connects with his family and

shows his picture to the new generation.

She does what she can,

to keep his spirit alive.

At the end of the day.

She’ll put on a pot of soup

and go back up that hill

to kiss it and say something.

The one thing that death can’t control.

“I’ll see you tomorrow my love.”

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