A Golden Thread

• Sarah Mcnamara, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2021

Early morn that day
Wrapped in blankets was I,
Perched upon a velvet couch
As I sobbed out a sigh.

Paused in my thoughts
I put on my wistful gown,
Dark like my sorrow,
Screaming with no sound

Wiping away the droplet
That flew down my cheek,
Listening to the cello
As I watched the people weep

Alice was a rare friend
Who shall not be forgotten
The golden thread of her selfless ways
Woven in my soul to blossom