We arrange to meet, same time, same place. Yesterday, a world away, a bad dream … till now. I watch her walk amongst the flowers,
kneel, bow her head – her tasselled scarf, courted by the wind.
I wave, call her name, oblivious as she is I’m even here;
her mind, wherever that place is myopically we call paradise.
Finally she sees me, greets me with a kiss – weaves her way
between the wreaths and hand-tied bouquets; every card she reads
tells a special story and bids its own unique, poignant goodbyes.
Until, her hands blue with cold, I warm with mine.
She weeps for her sister, as I in turn, weep for my child. No …
my precious daughter, this is not a promise broken.
“Don’t cry for me,” you said. Hand on heart, I’ve kept my word.
These tears, if not for you, are for the ones you left behind.
