Poetry
There is a stillness in this final air,
too fragile to bear the weight of words.
Silence melds with fragmented memories
that linger, then fade like crisp Autumn mists
in the glancing rays of early dawn.
Snapshots of earlier times, the laughter of children,
summer sun on bare arms, a mother’s tenderness.
All of these, and more, are now drifting crystals
that glister in the closing light.
As satin smoothness welcomes the weary traveler
whose journey has ended, the story is finished,
and this dust is the final reward.