Every dawn, when hope seems lost
And the days are littered with bad news
The sky envelops me in its endless beauty
As the sun and the clouds distract me with their lovely paintings
In shades of gray, white, blue, and orange
Slowly lifting the weights of sorrow
And replacing them with soft pillows of joy
Her mother was fond of saying
We are all victims of life
When another friend or relative
Succumbed to disease or injury
She chuckled to herself
When she read in the obituaries
That a 90+ year old had died
But no cause of death was given
Of course not, she would say
She was old
She took in all in stride
The death and the dying
Until death went one step too far
And invited her on a fateful journey
In the guise of a vacation
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