40
Seventeen months have brought her a body that never looked so exhausted.
Seventeen months since she bid a final good night to her only companion.
The wedding band he gave her still hugs a swollen finger,
a constant squeezing of blood back to her heart.
In seventeen months, she’ll bow her head and thank the Lord
for a life full of blessings.
She’ll think of the days she’s happy to have seen
and the days she’ll be happy to miss.
And the sharp needle will slip through, and with it she’ll join her beloved
leaving the thread of her legacy behind.
Standing at the Gate