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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2103772
The house is quiet,
the children have gone

My beard unruffled,
memories grow long

The toys still scattered,
where last they played

Their love now buried,
inside the maze

The house is quiet,
but deep within

Their laughter hides,
—my search begins

(Thanksgiving: November, 2016)
© Copyright 2016 Kurt Philip Behm (kurtbehm at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2103772