The door
Unadorned
No holiday wreath
No lace curtains
The stoop not swept of snow
Said it all.
Said it in ways
Her mother had not
Nor had the obit
In the small local paper
Or the lawyer reading the will.
It all hit home
In that instant
She saw the door
To the neat little cottage
Passed to her.
Her great aunt
Wasn't home
would never be again
Finally she was able to cry.
J.Binford-Bell
December 2010
Great poem. A little sad, but a good reminder to make the most of life with the people you love while they are here.
ReplyDeletePlaces are very different without the people who belong there. Nice Magpie.
ReplyDeleteYour poem so aptly conjures up the missing person. My visitor comes back!
ReplyDeleteYour Magpie ~ sad and happy too. For life does go on ............
ReplyDeleteThis is wonderful, so very touching and very well written.
ReplyDeleteTender and touching tribute! Lovely piece...
ReplyDeleteSometimes I get that same pang when I think of the home, that is now gone, that my grandmother lived and died in. Bittersweet memories for sure.
ReplyDeleteA sad tale beautifully written.
ReplyDeletePoignant...
ReplyDeleteThat's really wonderfully done. Kudos.
ReplyDeleteLoss is especially felt amidst those nostalgic moments.
ReplyDeleteBittersweet and lovely.
ReplyDelete