In spring she drew in pastels
the blooming azaleas,
the newly bright oak trees
And backyard tire swings surrounded by fireflies.
Summer was for watercolours
of ocean sunsets and quaint plantation homes.
She painted autumn in oils
immortalizing the myriad colours of mountain leaves
and earthy Indian pottery.
She marked winter with charcoal sketches
of the skeletons of the elms in her front yard
a And log cabins with smoking chimneys.
She'd performed this cycle
since she was a child,
but this was the most beautiful yet,
for somehow she knew it would be her last,
so she cherished each stroke of her gaunt hand
and hoped to leave this world
while immortalizing its beauty.