As the wind rustles through my hair
I trun around and glance
Feeling something absent in the
Cold, barren air

As I trun back I walk
Through the thick, blurry smoke
A shadow apart from my own
Appears under the quick dying oak

That night I dreamt her liquid-blue eyes
Floating through my head
Her pale lips utter the words
Someone familiar once said

As I wander the streets and
Try to escape her thought
Noise and confusion erupts
With murder and shock

A woman of 47
Identical to the one I dreamt of
Slaughtered near my mother's grave
Not my real one , but besides the fact
The one I greatly loved

As I toss and turn
in bed all night
An old photograph of my mother and I
Draws me blankly upright

In that picture staring back at me
I saw her
Then, out of nowhere my life blacks out
As I appear near my mother's grave
It all becomes a blur

As the wind rustles through my hair
I turn around and glance
Feeling something absent in the
Cold, barren air
*And finally I see her*