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She Was Alive
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Feb. 2005 She was alive
say the once thriving plants in the window
She was a rocker,
say the guitars waiting to be played.
She was classical,
says the old keyboard.
One might say she was expressive,
suggest the writings and drawings on the wall.
She was to be a photographer,
explains the mural of pictures hanging displayed.
Her thirst for knowledge was unsensational,
say the many books old and thick.
She had fun,
says the beads and mardi gras mask.
The dried flowers around the room
let us see her preservation for beauty.
She was alive,
cries everything untouched and full of sorrow.
