She won't be back for summer...

It's summer already.  I can see the happy sun on the bright green lawn. The air is lighter than it was last month. The creeper started it's way towards the iron railings on the balcony. The purple flowers in it ornamented the old brick walls. There are more birds in the back yard orchard. Summer's here but she isn't.  She said she won't be back for summer and she kept her word.
   
       I met her in the winter last. Winter had always been too grave and dark for me. I wonder how poets find beauty in the falling leaves and yellow sky or the cold wind that chills you to the spine. Like the barks of the tall trees she was shedding her skin that winter. Her cold hands looked so thin I could almost see through her skin. The dry wind brought report papers from the hospital everytime,  her chemo reports. With each flake of snow it got harder for her to get up from her bed. Her wide smile that could light up all hearts at once, was getting thinner and weaker. She wasn't left with much strength to smile or talk. But she did dream. Sometimes of heaven and sometimes of hell. She knew she was leaving us all. She said she'll miss us there, as if she knew where she was going.  Sometimes it felt like she really knew. Then there were other times she would talk about stars and planets and kings and Queens, angels and demons, monsters and wizards, about her stillborn child andddeceased father. The doctors said it's all a part of it. A part of death? Sometimes she screamed in pain asking us to let her go. Only if we could have held her back with all our love.