She was sitting on the deck,
                                          Sipping a margarita,
              Watching granny-smith apples rot on the freshly mown grass.
                                            Writing letters to
                                                                        me,
                                                                        he,
                                                                       and they
                                   Forgetting no one along the way

                         To her death. Or perhaps, not so much her end,
                                                  But a beginning-
                                      A place beyond stress from
                          parenthood
                          relationshps
                          job.
                                         Stress self-inflicted and from
                                                                         me,
                                                                         he,
                                                                          and they
                                 She forgot nothing along the way,
                                                                          Failing grades,
                                                                         Cheating boyfriends,
                                                                         Worthless hierarchy.
                         Always conscious of her own work ethic-
                                                                         Working through nursing school
                         Her unflinching loyalty-
                                                                         Never a wondering eye
                         Her professionalism-
                                                                         Always on call, never free.

                                                     Something that
                                                                        me,
                                                                        he,
                                                                       and they
                                           Mayhap forgot along the way

                               By some- accident. She took a pill, maybe two
                                          From old scripts and took a sip
                                                         While the
                          Small cat played                    and the Great Pyrenees walked
                          In the backyard                     freely inside the house
                         defenseless                           with muddy paws.

                                             She folded the letters to
                                                                      me,
                                                                      he,
                                                                     and they
                              nice and neat. Forgetting nothing along the way.