Funeral flowers

Gasping, she fights. The air around her seems too thick to pull into her aged lungs.
She hears voices, though can not lure her elderly eyes to focus.
Later she awakens to her daughter sitting in a hospital chair across from her bed.
"Hi", she croaks from her bed. I look and smile. "Well, hello Mom" I respond as I walk to her side, lean over the bed rail and kiss her cheek.
" I had the most awful dream about an angel with black wings." I was sitting on the a rope above a black hole in the earth and he was making the rope swing and...."
"shhh I whisper, you are here and safe." I pick a tiny black feather from her white hair and place it unseen in my pocket.
I cover her with her new throw I just finished crocheting.
"Oh, how beautiful " she says. With a confused look she says"It smells of flowers"
I just gaze at her thinking,yes, it smells deeply of old funeral flowers.

copyright@jadedlabyrinth