The Vibrant and the Dying

The Vibrant and the Dying

My mind twists between the vibrant and the dying.
She, bright daughter, flying in
Glowing, exuberant, epitome of life.
And he, grating off the shards of eighty years
Scarcely able to recall he is a grandfather
For few of flying out. His mind
Coils around corners of the hereafter
Scented with hospital smells
Bumping into nothingness
Seeking some light,
fearing the Light And the Dark, and the void.
She lands, smelling sweetly of sunshine
And joy in a tumble of luggage.
He, reluctant, makes his way empty handed
Towards the gate to eternity,
Waving feeble farewells before boarding.
She may just catch the final flutter.
My heart twists between the vibrant and the dying.

Sylvia Goodman