The last heartbeat

by July 23, 2015 2 comments

It was a day like any other day
an early Monday afternoon in May –
and she was already dancing with the Angels
as her mother read that farewell letter.

She fell limply from the white cliffs
to the ocean whose waves gently bathed her feet,
their susurration a farewell prayer,
then taking flight she rose,
soaring skyward –
riding the winds with wide spread wings
like a white seagull.

The last heartbeat whispered
“Forgive me, Mom
Now I’m happy”

© Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak

editors note:

Why choose early departure? Poets imagine. – mh clay

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