The Girls

Old Lonelies

Was fishing clean socks from a basket

in the laundry room Monday morning

when the purple in Emma’s sweater

caught my eye

washed, hung and left behind

the same way it did

Sunday morning as she was wearing it

leaving for Church

while I stayed behind

said hello to it this morning

— commiserating old lonelies now —

a frame painting a purple smile

on a sad wall

to help me remember

what Sunday going to Church looked like

as we both wait empty

for her return

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