Dancing With The Birds

    by Bobbi Sinha-Morey

Inside her empty room

I listened to the soft twilit rain

wondering what she would do

if she were still alive,

her cancer imperceptible,

nearly removed.

The last time I saw her

in the waning daylight she cried

when I stroked her weary hand.

I told her it was okay

to leave the earth behind.

I opened the window

so she could feel the wind, knowing

she had so little time left

and that she loved fresh air

on her skin.  Her husky voice

measured what she felt,

certain thoughts echoing between us,

words unhidden.

Now she is gone

and the motion of her wheelchair

so still, occupied by a cat

sleeping so silently, purring

only at will.  I hope

she is at peace with herself by now,

dancing in the sky,

dancing with the birds.

© 2010 Bobbi Sinha-Morey

Bobbi Sinha-Morey is a reviewer for the online magazine Specusphere and a poet.  Her poetry can be seen in places such as Orbis, Gloom Cupboard, Pirene's Fountain, and Falling Star Magazine, among others.  Her latest book of poetry is White Tea.