all things are in order.
the house is clean.
the bills are paid.
the bed made.
the dog is walked.
the windows
have been wiped.
the dust is gone.
not a cobweb is found
anywhere in any room.
even the attic
where the memories
were stored
is spotless, not a box,
not a picture framed,
not an old rusted sword.
no trinkets, no nick knacks,
no photos or
rings. no shoes left behind,
no clothes on a hanger,
no strings attached
anymore.
all things
must pass.
the trash pick up
is on Monday.
there is little left
to haul to the curb,
no bitter reminders,
at last. a joy to behold.
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