Fay Slimm.

Apprehension.

 

 

Apprehension.

 

She looked at the clock.

It was still deeply dark but glimmers
of morning\'s wet fog
seeped thru\' drapes mourningly dim.

She must not be late.

Between dressing she hastily packed
a bag while telling
herself never to add anything black.

Her Dad had cheerful resilience and
would survive any
bad health sign as he did in the past.

But time can sneak in.

The shrilling reproach to age of that
early phone-call
had forewarned her to heart attack.

The station loomed grey.

A voice rallied passengers as quickly
she filled with train
apprehension while leaving the city.

Town buildings faded.

The shroud of fog lifted and thinned
as clarified suburbs
paraded in amorphous-fawn quilting.

Cattle in flat green fields became but
a fuzz under willows as
trailing indigo veiled them in muslin.

Then woolly air flushed.

Blur turned to luminous essence and
thrust hints of suffusion
indirectly into the fast galloping land.

Sun was declaring no truce.

Fog\'s blight of damp would be ended
soon and she welcomed
a positive herald of bright day ahead.

As she sat back to imagine her much
loved Dad suddenly
struck, memory\'s good days flooded.

Then she started to pray.