There is a woman smiling,
picturing her imagination,
her intense love of life, cats and horses,
mathematics and words.
I smile back, through my tears.
I see her compassion for humanity
in the sweep of her lips, her passions
in the jaunt of her hat, her strength
in her hands, casually holding her coffee cup,
and I mourn her spirit’s passing.
Marion Moon? Do you even now
swim in the Amazon?
Cuddle a cat?
Urge on a horse, racing your husband
over distant lands?
Do you see moons and countryside
we do not? I believe you do.
I felt a chill while the New Year dawned
as I sat on a backyard picnic table,
my own cup of coffee cooling,
watching my cats and thinking sad thoughts.
Marion Moon, I am sorry for that.

Erin Moen
1/3/04
Copyright 2003 ©

Marion's bio can be viewed at
http://www.bewrite.net/biographies/fiction6.htm#marionmoon