Her limbs are burdened with winters white bounty.
It seems it happened overnight.
Her feather weight friends still eating the food she once held out for them proudly.
Her toes gripping the frozen earth,
Fear of toppling over…
Crashing into her daughter’s life,
A sharp snapping sound,
A jagged tearing of chilling reality,
A broken heart.
What is left?
A wide open gash of sky.
It should be blue but is grey.
White bones blowing broken,
By a lifetime of sun, rain and ice.
Wind rattles her soul free…
She is a gust of Winter’s storm.
She is a wisp of light in the dark corner of
Her daughter’s life.
She is gone.
Life Is A Production 