The balloon from her last birthday
I’d left to bob on the ceiling,
over the years had withered and died,
and now resembles a pink snail on
a white-ribbon leash, there
in the corner behind the bookcase.
© Chagall 2017
Tag Archive: grief
She waits.
Starlight
appears
now. Then
she cries
softly
alone.
Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 