She is preparing for death
Project, errand, a slow uncoiling of sorrow
Etching into her old bones
Love falls away in ashes
Let little by little through the cracks in ones fingers
Every sunset is a reminder of encroaching dark permanence
However many candles, lamps, incandescent are set out
And she is alone
Exhausted, terrified of questions that are already emphatically answered
Time is never a friend, less now more than ever
An ancestor, visiting on delicate wings of butterflies
Birds flitting small through the summer heat
Comfort fleeting
As she weeps solitary
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