Originally posted in my livejournal 04/15/09.
Title: In Passing, We Learn
Rating: K+
Summary: Rhonda dies.
Words: 130
In the last moment of your life,
The blurs of your past
Pixelize
Into clarity.
Dino Spumoni
Composes the soundtrack
Of your childhood;
A baseball smacks
Loud and clear
Off a wooden bat, and
Rockets sky-high
Above the voices
Of your cheering friends.
It isn't
The scent of perfume
That stays with you, but
The sticky smell of ice cream,
And coins in your palm.
Nadine, always shorter, but always
Tall when it mattered,
Stands at the fore with the old gang
Upstaging all your flings,
All your fancy things.
So now you know.
Every dusty ballgame
Was one worth playing;
Every Dino Spumoni lyric
Was one worth swaying to.
In the last moment of your life,
Walls fall,
You stride forth,
And you bring what matters with you.