DYING ALONE (poetryrepairshop 99.10:111) |
| It was 4 in the afternoon when they found her. She hand been lying in bed for weeks. The room wasn't well ventilated; her plants were dying. Death had been there and claimed Old Lady Jinkins. She had never married, never wanted to, not even a pet. Her room so small, her apartment so dank. When the investigators opened the window All the roaches ran from their meal and into nearby crevasses. While the former Ms. Jinkins lay in her naked glory. Her mouth still open, her hair still braided. With her dying breath she dreamed a dream of mirth. Her mouth bore a broad smile her lips puckered in a kiss. For that kiss, was eternal, for here and into forever. Her eyes were closed tightly as if she expected a peck. Her hands rest upon her withered bosom. Then a roach crawled out of her mouth. As the police drew nearer the fragrance became over powering. For this shriveled old bat started to rot already. Quickly they covered her, and left as they came. Then others came in and took some pictures, And gathered up Old Lady Jinkins.
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