Colors of Death

Green curtains frame the bay window,
the light from the sunrise dim.
Purples and reds bleed into
the landscape, grass brown and dead.
From the oven - fumes of apple pie,
sweet combining with the toxic.
She walks into the kitchen, smile freezing,
the sight before her taking control.
He lies on the floor, face blue,
eyes closed, mouth open – no breath.
The Heimlich does not save him,
her efforts lost as the sun rises
into the clouds, her brother’s body
cold in her arms. And the day,
despite its new beginning, has ended.
The apple pie burns in the steel gray oven,
while the sirens grow louder and
her legs go numb on the black linoleum.

Tomorrow the sun will rise again,
colors mourning in grays and blues.

[one of the poems from my final poetry project]