Nightly visits from Rebecca Alynn

My sister passed away 10 years ago at age 46. She has been visiting my dreams, so I wrote a poem for her:


A VISIT FROM BECKY

My sister passed
from this world,
gone,
like a puff of smoke.

Extinguished,
a cinder girl
reduced to ash.

Her last life’s breath,
exhaled and rose,
a mystic mist,
to form a cloud.

At night,
wispy tendrils
swirl and descend.
She seeps,
full bodied,
into my dreams.