Tuesday, January 10, 2017


It's the warmth she offered
as she laid on my lap

Is what I miss the most;
sitting patiently in the kitchen

For a meal or some
petting behind the ear.

She lived a long life,
yet it still wasn't enough,

As I still think of a spirit
youthful and free

On the other
side of the bridge.


No comments:

Post a Comment