Falling

• Brigette Hosking, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2009

Liquid drops, making no sound.
Falling slowly, and then meeting the ground.
The smoke swills, and with drawn breath.
Lungs release, exhaling death.

Blood escapes, dripping down.
Finding its way, soaking the ground.
Life renews, as life ends.
Congealed with ash, one needs to depend.

Head pounds and throat aches
Dull eyes don’t see and body quakes
Ones last shot, the pain subsides.
The sloping smile wilts then dies.