He said he'd come back if he could
The night he died he was outside the window
An old kettle boiling in his lungs
A final meeting before the unknown beckoned
His racked body in its death throes five miles distant
His spirit here with her one last time
The ghost fleeing the failing machine
She was frightened but recognition was certain
The light went on but didn't lighten the darkness
She knew she'd see nothing - but she had to look
Curtains opened to reveal the dying night
And still the sound - like a rattling steam engine
Persisting in the ether with no form there to sustain it
Minutes slipped by then it faded away
She knew then, she knew for sure
The knock on the door was no surprise
"I'm sorry," said the fresh-faced doctor
"I know," she said. "I know," and wept
James Cragg
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