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She sits there opposite me

She sits there opposite me In that old chair of hers Knitting those strange shapes she made Toys, animals, useful things So many – I have some still In some forgotten corner of my life She sits there opposite me Wrapped against the cold Her breathing sometimes shallow Sometimes laboured, sometimes still So far, so very far From my youth remembered time She sits there opposite me So frail and grey and worn Her vibrant life reduced, debased, displaced By depression, despair and pain And saddened we Sit with her and we cry She sits no longer where So staunchly once she did Her one warm chair now empty stands Soundless like a vault And poorer now we live With remembrance of a once great life 29/11/2009
Published inFamilyMemoryPoemRemembrance

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