Before She Died

At first my collared shirts were ironed, And I enjoyed my thought that this meant love. Then she stopped the ironed shirts. She gave me keys to her house and car. Then took them back; returned by wrinkled shirts Now the keys I turn are only mine. Her garden has come back from disrepair. Porch awnings are up without my help. Today I bought two new shirts with collars. Both are Barney purple. At first she hung my shirts up ironed And that meant love to me. Now my shirts hang wrinkled on me. I guess she lost her love of ironed shirts.