The rain spattered softly
On her face from where she lay
I a field of wild flowers
As the sun broke this new day.
Her memory is clouded
A flash here… and then there,
Her body’s feeling heavy
As she seems in quite despair.
How did she come to be here?
Could this be just a dream?
Or could this be reality…
A part of a horrid scheme.
She tries to rise but to no avail
For her body will not give
As an eerie chill slides over her
She has not long to live.
Her eyes grow heavy
As she drifts into sleep
A small girl laughs
and she awakes in disbelieve.
That voice… it sounds familiar
Like a ghost that’s from her past…
her memory fights to return to her
But she fades back into black
A little girl in daddy’s arms
The smell of sweet perfume
like photographs from days gone by
one by one… keep flashing through.
She smells the flowers…the pretty wildflowers
so pungent and wet with dew
But as she draws her final breath
Her memory rings true.
Antony King 2018
