No last trips to wear me out. Time moving fast, I am not. I wrestle to live a month in a week. People appear for their vigil visits. Where was everyone when I could enjoy.
Dear granddaughter brings open talk.
The rest circle around the weather with mock normalcy. too serious for everyday tones. Unable to speak, the unspoken, not to be spoken. My thoughts drift towards the impending chasm. Granddaughter brings fresh flowers, and blown kisses with the soft knowing yet innocent smiles of youth, that engulf the distance. Unafraid to say, may I kiss you, meaning I love you, and will miss you.