Reminiscing the Past: Part VII

Otillie's End

by Emily Moss

For Otillie,
for the others
I sat thinking.

The late August breeze
whisking by the engraved names
I felt the tingle of fall arriving
and the shivering contrast of silenced life

Maybe for Otillie,
death was a sickening fascination,
morbid thoughts interfering with
learning in school
playing with classmates
daily happiness.

Maturation into adulthood
withered the face into icy coloring
and eery bags hung beneath grey eyes.

The mind consumed with the Ultimatum.

Endlessly
thrashing in possessed sleep
searching for something;
when nothing could be found.

Only when the body lay
nearing its end
and the helpless eyes rolled into darkness
did the mind feel reluctant
to leave what had never really been seen.

So for Otillie,
for the others
I sat thinking.