White and trimmed in Gold.
Her purse was crotchet
And stood out
In the dead of winter.
Unmatched by her dark
Colored clothing.

I knew it was you.
Always standing out
And never without.
Yet, I don't know why
You visited me today.
But, your old colors spoke
To me in a discreet way.

Gold was always your thing.
24 karat, you gave birth to bling.

Your white couch,
It was off limits.
What grandchild didn't sneak
A seat on it back in the day?

And I remember the crochet
Dolls that you created.
You AND Mrs. Koontz.

But I still don't know why you 
Visited me today.

The lump in my throat,
Won't go away.

But my mixture
Of emotions
Stir quietly,
Waiting for an answer.

I don't know why you
Visited me today.

You are here. 

(c) 2012

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Wednesday, February 29, 2012 Posted in | , , | 0 Comments »

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