Sonnet: Sun Wings

Sun Wings

She left so many years ago. We sang
her home, graveside, and prayed her immortal
soul to rest . . . Asked, she would often chortle
and speak of life’s treasure, despite great pain,
dizzy therapies, chemo—constant rain
dripping morphine from a bladder bottle
hung on a stainless cross. Just how brittle
she was, we never could tell. How she sang!

Last night at the club, you say you saw her
dancing like she was back in the nineties;
It sounds hokey, but it’s one of those things
they say never happens. We all saw her
as we best knew her in warts and beauties
all her own—phoenix flying on sun wings.