grand parents.
if their love was a sentence
he is the comma, she
a period, waiting for it to end
he is ash, ink, autumn
frayed and decayed, yet unforgotten
but she is a chalkboard dusty winter
who cannot read ink
so she cannot remember.
* * *
(at the risk of stating the obvious, one passed away a few years ago, the other is illiterate with memory loss.)



July 2nd, 2007 |
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March 10th, 2007 |
this is wonderful i have to tellyou twice