35. Far ahead

She is far ahead of you,
the doctor said.

Not a shadow of a chance
to keep up.

All her lineaments stretched,
and ready to snap.

Don’t hold her back,
she is ready to leave you for dead.

Wills you to be still,
to receive what departs.

The final gasp resounds
for ever. You hold the line,

for want of reply,
length of a different wave.

You will tend her grave,
scratch out the weeds.

Plant flowers,
in winter bulbs

to blossom a memory