Still
The water sits so still on the table Nothing but the spounge will absorb the waste The bowl once full of warmth Now sits beside the cold stove Dry Spots engage the once wet floor Once sparkling with the cleanliness of our mop Foot steps mark the carpet Mud now covering all that was white The door to my house doesn't close The draft from the harsh winter bites at my toes Unopened presents lay beneath the dying tree Much like the words that are needed to be said Something is missing from my home A time I cannot replace Why can nothing stay the same Time takes with it all that you wished would stay the same Written December 28th, 2001 © on Dec 27 2001 03:31 PM PST, Kelli Miller 18 • 0 • 1
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"The water sits so still on the table..."