It has been FOREVER since I posted… Life has been busy – between travel, moving and holidays, it is hard to get the time to write – Such a contrast to my sleepy summer schedule.

So I have been listening to The Moth Radio Hour pod-cast (NPR).  I recommend it for all writers!  It is such great storytelling, and I can never listen without a thousand stories of my own swirling around in my head.  Need inspiration?  Listen to The Moth!

Anyhoo…. The last one I listened to was called “Second Chances…”  I listened to it and immediately thought of my sister…  It was my inspiration for this poem!

When she succumbed
At last 
To the demons
She fought
EVERY
SINGLE
DAY,
We were in
A fight.

Hot, angry words
Followed by years-
Years of 
Frosty silence.
Hurt pride.
Smoldering anger.
A day of denial.
Years of anger.


But.
But I always thought -
I always knew -
I was sure -
We would reconcile.
We would Forgive.
We would forget.
Move past the anger,
The hurt.

It was simply a matter
A matter of who...
Who...
Who would
Call who first.
Who would Beg forgiveness.
Who would Explain. 
Who would Cry.
We had done it before.
We had bared
Our hearts before.
I was sure,
Sure we would again.

Stubbornly, 
It would not be me.
Not Me.
I was unshakable.
I was mad.
I was single-minded.
I was adamant.
Dumb, stubborn anger.
Before I knew it,
It became
Too.
Long.

I closed my eyes
And it was
Too Long.

Time and Distance
Made it easy to forget.
Forget.
And I forgot.
Years went by
And I didn't even
Think.
About.
It.
About.
Her.

And I got the call
And there she lay
Her breath harsh
Labored.
And though she was
THERE, she 
Was really not THERE.

So I held her hand
I held her hand 
And listened to 
Her breathe.
I held her hand,
Her nails
Perfectly manicured
Of course.

I held her hand
That still morning
And watched the Sun,
The sun rising behind her
The mountains 
Silhouetted against
A pink and purple sky
And the air was cold
And Crisp
And Clear.
It was beautiful and
Breath-taking
and the irony was
Heart-breaking.

Since it was 
Simply a matter 
Of WHO would 
Ask forgiveness first,
I asked.
But of course she
Couldn't give it.

(Prompt words: Contrast, Doleful, Suspicious)