At Last

She lay in the bed

uninhabited, motionless,

except for the compulsive

movement of the hands

as she unconsiously

caressed the

stuffed cat,

then

viciously

attacked the

lone brown spot

staining the virginal

white as though some

unsightly weed had

insinuated itself

into the pristine

garden of fur.

At Last!

The hands

rested! She

lay in a pine box,

the left hand, inert,

reposed on the stuffed

cat. In her right hand,

a postcard from her

niece, postmarked

February 9, 1989.

The day she,

at last,

found peace!