I can't believe. She's gone -
our Angel recalled too soon.
If only Time would reconsider
and forgo that woeful moment.
If only it would freeze then,
like it has since,
so we could intercede and bargain
against the icy, suffocating vacuum
left behind
when Angels fly too soon.

God don't do this. Don't. Do. THIS!
Anything.
Other.
Another.
Me!

Don't let your hurried Angel dethrone her King.
Help us believe. Pleas. Please!

Fractured Time, like fractured hearts
will not mend and Before/After will never blur again.

The indurating boots of marching years
will pound this acute pain into a dull curved glass
through which meager memories and unattained hopes
magnify back into focused beams of sharp regret.
In this way even the sun's soft rays
transform incredulously
into streams of acerbic tears -
when Angels fly too soon.

Words surrender.
Senses cease.
The deafening silence
echoes in our hollow room
where we bend and squint,
a family of souls straining to discern
the final fading distant whisper of wings
because our Angel flew too soon.

Dedicated with love to the Valdez family in loving memory of Nikki