Lace
Brightness peeps into
yellowing net curtains;
brief wafts of a semaphore sky.
An elderly lady has planted her mind
in an apartment,
lightbulbs burn out, are never replaced;
sunshine squints through thin drapes.
Daily she shoos the world away,
discourages rumors
of unnecessary things.
Mail piles up
on her unwelcome mat.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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