A moment suspended,
transfixed in her mind
A moment, that instant,
time’s noose to rewind
How can you prevent
A quick tumble to death
An ascent of perfection
To her gasping breath
She’d never know why
Fate pulled her so low
Outdoing the most ragged
bone yard shop of her soul
To lose in an instant
the one you assume
Would forever inhabit
the woven heart of your loom
But this existential distress
doesn’t touch what remains
The earth-shattering truth
that the quotidian slains
That something so droll
as a last-minute piece
Could be the reason
she’s ten feet beneath
The world she once knew
on an intimate basis
Ripped without feeling
as her absence replaces
The horror of knowing
it’s not a dream to retell
But a hat that she reached for
Was how tragedy befell
Winter Rose Prose 