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I felt her roll over in bed,
Just getting comfy as she slept.
Of course I knew it was her
From the inner vigil I kept.

From the corner of my eye,
I saw my love hold the paper high.
Itís the way sheís always held it,
So I neednít ask her why.

We discuss the distorted news
And peruse a few local events.
She wants to go see a good play.
Itís me who graciously relents.

Iím surprised to hear her ask me
To please answer my phone.
I almost reached out for it
But, there was no ringing tone.

At certain times of the day
Appropriate meals are prepared.
When, as today, she isnít here,
Itís less appealing than when shared.

I hear sounds from the kitchen.
Perhaps she is starting a meal.
When the sounds are not repeated,
I admit they likely werenít real.

She called out that dinnerís ready,
At least, thatís what I thought I heard.
Yes, it was an ordinary day
Still, feel free to doubt my word.

Another day like the days past;
Get the paper off the front lawn.
Her small hand feels warm in my own
Though, deep down I know she is gone.

By The_Pip

© 2017 The_Pip (All rights reserved)


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