Her lips were purple,
her face a powder white.
I knew my baby sister wasn’t right.
“She’s now in heaven,”
said a mother torn in grief.
“For the first time she knows relief.”
An unfinished pine box,
made by my father’s hands.
Everyone in a daze of funeral plans.
“Goodbye baby sister,
there are few as strong as you.
We won’t forget battles you fought through.”
Holding tight the ribbon,
my balloon dark maroon.
Let it go. Watch the crowd disperse too soon.
Just a memory
in a five-year-old’s mind.
Deepened with my seasons and outlined.

Mary Grace van der Kroef is a poet, writer, and artist from Ontario, Canada. She loves the simple things in life, like a good cup of coffee and visits with friends. She is a mental Health Warrior and endeavors to uplift others with her words. Please follow her at www.marygracewriting.ca