#follow me i say

Emily danced with Death…in white
   only she can see, with her eyes
  just how much more ~ replete       he arose
          yesterday remained miles off

     to Emily…inhalation becomes inspiration
 poetry fills her lungs 
      sated
Death ~ stood,slanted

    a feather falls from branch
        hope flutters 

Emily wants to accomplish…something
           for someone
   -at least once in her time 

     during this time of war, strife
words are Emily’s healing
         ~as Susan drifts to brothers bed

   Death is bored, as war wagesrages
         …galloping wisps carry from battlefield
    -to battlefield                       seeking advice 

          Emily inspired little things on little….scraps
   Susan.       Death.          birds.          love.