Death came.
Rattled the curtains.
Near her bed I stood silent.
Staring at the ceiling, the door.
The doc in white steps in.
Puts his stetho on her chest.
Listens, Shines light into
Her eyes. Checks pulse. Says:
Brave lady, she fought for life.
He leaves. I cry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Death rattles the curtains. Curtains are washed.+++10