The sparkling ringtone lifts me up
It’s from the care home where she stays
Our talks, though brief, refill my cup.
But no. “She’s passed.” Or some such phrase.
The jagged ringtone crashes in
It’s from the care home where she stayed
That day, nurse held her calming hand,
She went in peace, no pain, just peace,
And not afraid.
The turgid gloom of grief and loss
Lifts, allows a trembling light
To know, as she stepped off her throne
My queen, though dead, was not alone.