THE MEMORY

Chiara Fersinis

The soldier shot in the heart

counts his last seconds of life

Speaks of only one thing

Of her,

sitting at home,

His wife.

With hands on his heart

He calls her name

to see her once

Just one last time

To tell her how much

She was loved by him

although to love

there wasn’t much time.

 

But as he counts

his last breaths

she is at home

reminiscing the moments

painting the strokes life

Counting every minute

waiting for him to return.

Slips into a red dress

his only present

Gracefully she paints him

onto the canvas

out of her memory

little did she know

this is all he is now

A memory

from the point of no return

 

A memory of the past

of his sacrifices

Of the birthday flowers

of the pretty red dress

of the roses on her back.

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Photo Prompt given by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie photo challenge #8