Tremulous hands, age defied,
held that yellowed image, fused to flesh,
imbibed memories like a wafting zephyr,
caressing her soul to warmth.
Her pale eyes rimmed in softest blue,
crystalline tears too weary to flow,
he was her meaning, her life's pleasured purpose,
and even now, that face, could take the sigh from her.
Slow blinking eyes, tentative,
holding onto life with but a whim,
so to not forget, imbue those moments spent,
the love that cradled two soul to ecstasy.
Suddenly memories were not enough,
that sepia image too cold and brittle,
and she, tired for the wanting,
living for such fleeting solace.
Yearning, she closed those pale eyes,
and drew that dark breath,
letting go of the moment, to find him, to touch him,
to return to home.