The train howls
Pouring steam over the years
Sons, daughters and grandchildren crowd her bed
They watch and wait and weep
Her life leaks out
Death creeps in……..
Behind her eyes dances the flowers of more than seventy springs
Her ears echo with the first words of her children
Her feet are stained green from skipping across the freshly cut lawn of her parents house
Her thin crown of grey hair remembers shining honey colored and falling below her shoulders
The train growls diesel as the wheels turn
Between her legs throbs the beautiful agony from her wedding night and the thousands of nights that followed
Her fingers twitch, manipulating a needle and thread
Her voice is an Autumn morning
Her laugh; a Summer thunderstorm
Both are silent now
The name of the man that widowed her brushes over her lips
She tries to say his name now, gulping soundlessly at the air
They all lean in close, like sunflowers yearning for more from the sky
The train whispers into the neon lit station
The doors of the carriage open
And she melts into the night.