Sitting with mom
when dad was dying
I was a middle daughter.
dwelling in the gurgling breath of silence
Having loving low toned conversations with mom.
Death stood waiting softly
Mom ~ recognized Death
was present to take Dad home.
Weightless ~ Grace settled on Dad’s shoulders.
Quietly preserving this space
Preserving this time,
Until Death stepped forward
Gurgling breath of silence no more
Leaving Grace behind
So Peace could step in and breath herself
Into us
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