Crime Scene


She was asleep

And it fell upon her

Trapped from life

That left her never

To wake again


It is a still scene, now

Xes on the trees

Still riddled with disease

But will not

Fall now except to mortality


Her home crushed

She will not live there again

The roof is gone, and

The better home will not have her


Unless haunted in memory


The bitterness in life

That will go on

If in arrhythmia

A halting step to pace

The life that will persist

That must


C L Couch