It was the season of drifting scents,
ice on the windscreen,
pine needles on the wind.
Outside, Christmas roses still clung
to thorny stems and I longed for secateurs
to deadhead delicate corpses
but could not bear to touch petals
the colour of bruised skin.
Instead I opened a window to cut
the cloying breath of flowers in her room.
Now I lift the lid of a cardboard box
stuffed with crackling photographs
and treasure the fading monochromes
that echo with her laugh.
The only image that refuses to fade
is the one that clicked in my head
of her gaunt body and blue eyes turned to grey
on that last day.
Kim M. Russell, 30th September 2018
A poem I wrote for The Poetry School Decisive Moment Studio, which I am linking to Poets United Poetry Pantry.