Drop-down deadly,
Negates the innocent red
Pomegranate smiles that
Once lined the dusty highway -
To the place between tendril gardens
And the setting moon.
How we’d bay to keep it at bay,
That haunted spirit blowing in
When least expected -
It will steal your soul someday.
She dropped-down dead
At 82, readily -
Still she smiled, the optimist -
Cast in bronze, floated away
To the place between us
And them.
That we would play so, just to play
As the thunderheads billowed in
Unexpectedly -
Stealing our souls someday.
Kelly Vinal
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spiral/
