OPAL FIRE
I didn't know her long --
a lady like
a cross between
a Christmas
tree and a marine --
Her tinsel wit and generosity
surprising
contrast to
the
raspberry voice,
the martial
measured walk,
white angel
hair
and grammar
so precise
whether in English or in French.
One day, while mulling on my offspring's latest trauma,
I turned to her and said,
"I wouldn't be twelve again for the world!"
She laughed. "Not twelve, or seventeen,
or
sixty-six, or anything between.
It's much
more fun just to get on with life,
And see
what's next!"
She said it with conviction.
One night she had a stroke
and stayed
in coma for the next three days.
When she awoke,
with half
her body paralyzed,
She moved with the good fingers
to touch
her husband's hand
And smiled with half her mouth
And said what might have been
"Get
on with it . . . ."
And chose to close her eyes and let the colored lights go out.
I didn't know her nearly long enough. |
