Maybe They Will Come
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She can't blame the season for her tears
Aloneness was not loneliness in December
When the season passed so quickly in disguise
Of twinkling lights and toasts remembered
As she looks to the yard, there is nothing to see
but an old pepper tree, that tosses it's head
It is losing its leaves in an alien wind,
in a sea of dead grass, where a garden had been
Her house wears a face, weathered thin, from neglect
and a fence that is broken and needing repair
She turns for a moment, to glance, here and there,
a room she has known, filled with colors long dimmed,
where the silence shouts loud, not a question to ask....
but...wishing for something..., a chore, or a task
A family together, is framed on the desk
Maybe they'll come today....
For a mere month or more, a feral cat came her door
then had wandered the floors, neither friend or a foe
But he soon disappeared, on the eve of the storm
She will call just the same.......just in case he can hear
"Here, kitty kitty"....."Here, kitty kitty", but she calls him in vain
While the wind plays the same dirty game...
Tumble weeds roll and bend, her eyes search the wind
She peers through the window,...as she waits for a friend...
a friend never there....always due to arrive
so she stands by the side, of the old telephone
where the old parlor room, knows a long afternoon
A family together, is framed on the desk
Maybe they'll come someday...
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Loneliness Contest Entry: Sponsored by Nadya Ivette Negron
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
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