Snapshots At St. Arbuck’s ™

Death Came Softly

death came softly to my door

not the brash fellow of my fears
but oh, so politely
stealing in quietly
stealthily, hungrily

“I take what I can”

the susurrant pronouncement
chills me to this very day

“You won’t take me!” I boldly cry
though barely containing the terror

over
under
sideways
down
backwards
forwards
square
and round

he searched every nook and cranny

“I take what I can”

“Stop saying that!” I shout

pausing
eyes laser-like
resting on the helpless
defenseless
most innocent of all

“I take what I can”

quickly
like a breath vanishing on yesterday’s wind
he was gone
taking with him our fondest hope
heart’s desire

gone and gone

empty womb
longing to be filled

and yet we do not sorrow
as those who have no hope

“the sun WILL come out tomorrow
bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow
there’ll be sun”

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