Passing

Fifteen years ago on a
January day in Mississippi
my husband made a leap
from here to eternity
and in seconds
left us prostrate
on the ground
in grief and pain.

Here now
in another January
Mother makes the leap
this time in slow motion.
We stand on the sidelines
Helpless as she draws
another labored breath
not yet the last.

He holds the book
the pages of each life.
He knows the number of our days.
And when the final page is turned
the life we love is gone
and we are left here
on the ground--
gazing upward.

Nancy Perkins
1/13/13

Ten minutes after I wrote this poem, I went and sat beside her, held her hand, and watched her complete that leap into eternity. All is well.