Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Bridge

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.

1/10/2017

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