The phone ring jars the peaceful nightA shiver runs down the spine in fright..
Who could be calling at this wee hour!
To pick up the phone She dreads, she fears.
The man picks up the phone to hear...
His face contorts in sheer despair.
She doesnt want to listen to the confirmation..
of the dread that has been growing in her abdomen!
She rushes across the seas to reach...
The devastation left behind the cortege.
Amidst muted tears she can only behold
A mass of people, an unwanted crowd.
No more smiling lips or open arms
No more endless questions, patient ears
No more warmth or welcome at the threshold!
No more life, just an eerie silence!
She is in a hurry to reach,
the two pairs of tearful eyes..
To hold them in their grief,
and join them to say goodbye!
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Prompt from Writers Island - The Moment
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