Laura lay in dirigible,

Coughing blackened ichor full

Of remnants of her body; yea,

The Reaper's come to cull today.

Her life not flashed, but slowly seeped

Like honey crystallized—she weeped

To wonder what her mom would say;

The Reaper's come to cull today.

And when life's tunnel narrowed thus,

His sickle and his omnibus

Arrived to charter her away—

The Reaper's come to cull today.

Now buried deep between the elms—

Athena with an arbor helm—

The air was cool, the clouds were gray,

When Reaper came to cull that day.

jcb