White Knuckles by Raymond A. Foss
Vivid memory Twenty-five years past Her hands Old, blotched, tired Gripped the sheet metal Chair below her
White knuckles Held her fast Unmoving, denying Unwilling To stand Walk ten feet Say goodbye Her daughter Youngest of seven Gone before her
We waited Silently In pain, like her Aunt, Daughter, Sister, mother, friend Pain no more For her
Too soon For us Staring, waiting Open sore Frozen time Clenched jaw White knuckles
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