To Come

She ran, fleet of foot.

Across the links, down to the dunes,
liberated and exuberant;
heartbeat chiming time
to the church bells of freedom.

And the distant hills called her
as in childhood,
when we played in the sand
and thought those shores across the firth
to be magical at least.

She ran and ran
all the way to waking up….
and the room intruded on her joy
and the nebulizer stood waiting.

But she'd been given a glimpse.


Dedicated my my sister, very disabled by Lupus, following a dream she shared some years ago. Gifts can often come in dreams.
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