I used to
hold your hand when we
crossed the street.
hold your hand when we
crossed the street.
It was warm
and firm, unlike the bony
fingers I hold now.
and firm, unlike the bony
fingers I hold now.
Showing posts with label deathbed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deathbed. Show all posts
Monday, April 29, 2013
Palm reading
Labels:
deathbed,
grandma,
PAD13,
poeticasides,
shadorma
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