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Michael Mehrman Poem
Cut Flowers
The scent of cut flowers arose,
Then cool water tickled her toes,
She turned with a start,
To the flower cart,
And reconnected the drainage hose.
Copyright © Michael Mehrman | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Michael Mehrman Poem
UNSUPPORTED CODE Aging Grace UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE As we grow older, our parents arrive first. UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE We pray for the best and plan for the worst. UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE Old photos, young faces we barely recognize, UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE save something familiar in their smiles and their eyes. UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE The pillars of strength we worshiped when small, UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE grow fragile and forgetful under sweaters and shawls. UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE We cling to their dignity more than they do themselves, UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE as their passage to heaven brushes too close to hell. UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE We’d gladly carry that burden, if only we could. UNSUPPORTED CODE
UNSUPPORTED CODE They say only “I love you, my life has been good.” UNSUPPORTED CODE
Copyright © Michael Mehrman | Year Posted 2018
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