Sonnet to Memory

Here for a second then lost to the wind

To clasp with new hand eyes still tightly shut

A kind laugh to a swaddled babe fair-skinned

The rising sun the quiet laugh short cut

The ailment in her blood runs in her bones

The doctors try to ease her load have grace

We cry and beg she wilts to the unknowns

Leukemia starts to catch up the race

She's gone the coffin is shut in the ground

Too young for memories of her rich laugh

But there she is in a song's timid sound

So soft it fills my heart which was once half

Her tales now spun to poems and bright hues

Now I with her go-to step-in her shoes