Free to Dance (for Mother)

You were still warm

with whisps of silver and gray

on your parchment skin,

eyes shut tight against the world,

and lower lip hanging down.

I kept waiting for an intake of breath

one more breath

just one more for the road.

I felt the heat

at the top of your head

as though your mind

was still busy with thoughts.

Ahhh, but you are free now,

free of this old skeleton

fetally curled into itself.

You are free to dance again.