He carries a light.

I wasn’t expecting that.

He came to me as I sat on my poorch.

My bones creaking as load as the well worn rocking chair.

I felt him at my side.

His cold hand caressing my cheek.

The light filled my eyes as I turned to him.

It opened every corner of my being

Shining on every shadowed corner of my life.

I saw my mother in that light




I sighed into his embrace

Letting the glow wash over me.

I wasn’t expecting the light.

I always thought death carried a scythe

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