With precise exactitude, it pierces the heart and penetrates the mind
With memories that flood and dance
Then vanish.
Of love and laughter
Of tears and trouble.
Times better and times worse.
They come and go as they please.
Grief strikes with the touch of a hand,
With a song or a hair.
The brush just there
Displays the last particles of life.
She smiles and nods.
A last look.
And she is gone, again.
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