Sara Smollett

May 3, 1995

she was dancing,
dancing with angels, gracefully
Felt her legs stretch, then retract,
and though they didn't move,
she was invariably drawn by the music, heaven.
Relaxed, her eyes closed and the whole world slipped out from under her.

no longer was she in a car, travelling the road of life,
Earth someplace below that place of her own,
but she was one with the music; the melody her soul. she
Recalled one other time she had felt this way,
Every movement came freely, easily:
dancing at a recital, almost flying,
Jumping higher, higher
on white wings, detached from the earth
till the curtain came down.

the car lurched
but she did not feel it, nor
Anything else; heard only the music play on.

Car -- found a few hours later that day,
upside-down below a cliff, the insides,
Quite a sight, torn up, and glass everywhere,
blood stained seats, empty of soul; the angels had taken the child
away. somewhere, somewhere in the
Universe, she was dancing,
dancing with angels, gracefully. her
Eyes, drawn mysteriously upward; the only
playing from the tape deck,
her funeral