Barbara M. Thomas Poems

How you glide over the matted, frostbitten grass
Performing the last dance
A ritual before death
An unseen choreographer guiding your every movement
...

Sometimes when I laugh I feel so guilty
For a moment I've forgotten, then I remember the sounds of your laughter and my eyes mist
I haven't come to accept yet the absence of your laughter
Silence of a home has its own agony
...