change is hard.
old age
keeping us where
we've always been.
with things just so,
the chair
in the corner,
the sofa with its
imprint of us
when we rise.
the vase
on the mantle.
the parted curtains
letting light in.
all the comforts of
home.
a tea kettle rattling
on the stove.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
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1 comment:
This just is a nice sweet poem.
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