A light, its amber glow a fleeting thought, <br />shines through the drapes into the Dying Room. <br />They call it that, so unashamedly, as if to say <br />that we depart this earth upbeat and clutching life, <br />a voluntary act, conceived by time and force of will. <br />The nurses whisper now, sending the student in to see <br />if time has caught the soul and torn it from the womb <br />of her, whose name will be forgotten soon by all, <br />only the shyster may remember her with fondness still, <br />he had been charged with her affairs and left to take <br />all necessary steps and keep a bundle for himself. <br />She'd liked his wavy hair, his taste for good cigars <br />and most of all the ever present smile he had reserved <br />exclusively for her. He'd called her 'DEAR', which <br />in itself was more than most would even think of her, <br />her man of 60 years had been a tyrant to the teeth, <br />and when she freed herself that morning on the balcony, <br />a small but potent amber capsule added to Earl Gray, <br />and freedom reigned again, and peace. That I must say.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dying-room-2/
