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Rated: ASR · Prose · Tribute · #1574614
on my elderly friend
Weathered hands, they worked for decades,
and they have not forgotten,
the life,
the memories...

Her eyes sparkle when she talks about Elmer,
the “greatest man” she ever knew,
her husband,
her Elmer...

Compassion reflects in her face when talks about her children,
the men she “brought up right,”
her sons,
her boys...

And a smile comes to her lips when she tells me
I am “the girl she never had,”
her sunshine,
her daughter...

She gives me bread, freshly baked,
without the “crap and preservatives found in food today,”
her bread,
her gift...

She talks about the “good old days”, when she went dancing,
before she had her cane,
her memories,
her life...

She has lived, and she has much to tell me,
and so much to teach me about this world, about life,
my friend,
my Delores...

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