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Responses (sorted by date)
dbonilla: grief (2/15/13)
clrclady: So Powerful (2/14/13)
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EVER SMALLER
Days run into each other.
Meals become a meaningless routine.
A Psalm to start the day.
Another one to end it.
The Family Altar after evening meal.
Recitations of remembered prayers
surround the simple food she eats.
Cereal at her breakfast,
a bowl of soup at noon,
an early dinner, while staring off
at long departed faces,
chattering children, smiling friends,
the husband she so loved.
How dare he die!
All the others leave, as well.
The telephone lies silent now
accentuated by jangling solicitors
who never have the courtesy to chat.
Visitors no longer ring the bell,
grabbing cups of Folgers instant,
washing down Windmill cookies,
or her famous homemade brownies,
cooling on the rack her mother used.
Maybe on a sunny day
she and Dorothy
would head to Linda’s Diner
to grab a bite to eat.
But Dorothy passed away,
as have so many friends.
She separates the newspaper
to read Obituaries
and find the puzzle page.
Thursday is the easy crossword,
Sunday’s much too hard.
It used to be when Sunday came around
she drove five blocks to church,
in her ‘68 BelAir sedan,
but her children took the car away.
Friendly people pick her up now,
take her to there to worship,
from way in back she grieves her losses,
pleads with Jesus, “Take me home.”
as her world gets ever smaller. |