Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Sweet Grass

Lying, face down
in the sweet
green grass

Breaths coming
in gasps

she is dying.

she has fled
the confines of
her bed, her prison.

she has shed
the robe
that had bound her
too tightly.

and, now,
here she lies.

naked and bare
exposed to the earth.

voices from
another time

"no" "rise"
"keep fighting"
"stay with us"

she raises her
single index

as if to say
"give me a minute"

knowing that a
minute is all
she has.

she whispers.

"be quiet
and I will describe
death to you"

her eyes dilate.

the intense light
feels dark.

the earth is

and she hums with it.

in tune
in the moment
she wonders
if she has ever
been this alive

one with the earth
and at peace with

she dies.

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