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Him...
January 15, 2013
Lying in the short brown grass.
The feel of dirt, the smell of clear air.
I can’t remember the last time
he was here
with me.
Our house, the love of how we painted
the nursery
Together.
But I always hated the green carpet in
the den.
While I look at that house
I feel alone nobody to talk to.
No one to share life with.
I hear him calling my name, “Katie”?
“I’m coming dear”.
© Brooke W., Lake Forest, IL
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