At the Unknown

the last time i saw her
i was twenty-two and it was a winters day
i picked you up before dawn
and you were smiling and singing and trying not to yawn
the car was warm in the morning cold
there was snow everywhere except on the road

it was noon by the time we arrived
we were hungry and happy to be alive
she had given me a key with instructions
to just come on in whenever i was there
i tried to prepare you for the stories she told
and the magical clutter of her home
but we were not ready when we opened the door
for the smell of burning so thick and so pure

the house was cold so we followed the heat
into the kitchen trying to breathe
and there on the stove was a frying pan
the metal was glowing a brilliant red
the bottom was melting, the handle burned off
i turned off the burner and stifled a cough
we looked in the driveway and her car was there
the house was so still and we were afraid

i found the strength and mounted the stairs
at the end of the hallway her door was closed
as i crossed the distance the quiet seemed to grow
i could hear you downstairs opening windows
the light became different as i opened the door
and there she was laying on the floor
though time had passed her eyes still shone
i think she died smiling at the unknown