CROSSING OVER

She considered herself a life

shadow,

embracing long solitary moments;

eyes open to darkness.

Life had become a plausible

intruder as

she slept away painful images

and the jest of youth.

She was now an unstable

passenger

a fleshy veneer

no longer frightened of the

past.

She suspected the end,

though assured by faith,

she relied on the alliance

secured between the crevices

of unseen waters.

She quietly relinquished

a last breath.

She was 97.

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