Her Final Act

 

She sat

flat on the grass, her legs

 

out schoolgirl-straight

though she was eighty if a day.

 

Like a solemn girl

at play, she

 

plucked flowers

from a pile

 

and shot them

like darts

 

into a vase

beside her husband’s grave.

 

She muttered to herself,

frowning,

 

no longer

clear of mind.

 

Her old, known

life

 

tight

in the ground.

 

Her new, strange

life

 

loosening

away.

 

 

 

Mark Belair’s poems have appeared in numerous journals, including Alabama Literary Review, Euphony Journal, Harvard Review, and Michigan Quarterly Review. Author of seven collections of poems, his most recent book is Stonehaven, a work of fiction (Turning Point Books, 2020). He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize multiple times, as well as for a Best of the Net Award. Please visit www.markbelair.com