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Three
 
Hundreds lingered long
avoiding the inevitable, but,
eventually going separate ways.
Each to their own house
each with their own thoughts –
surprised they could leave,
still aware of the pain.

We lingered at the door,
our eyes falling
on the chair, and on the table
where the glasses were left
on the Bible - left open
to one of the Gospels.
Grown cold, the quilt, was left,
draped across the arm of the chair,
a silent reminder ...

We lingered long
at the kitchen table,
speaking softly, speaking little.
each with their own thoughts,
each questioning the future,
each slowly drifting off…
away, realizing,
we were now three.

© Scott Alcorn 11-16-08

By scottartist13

© 2009 scottartist13 (All rights reserved)

 

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