The dryer ticks and cools while I fold.
My warm shirts stir the musty air when
a rush in the pipes startles the silence.
"Hello?" I ask the joists.
But the dog naps knowing
no one is there.
It is only the dishwasher draining,
sending the ghosts of children and men
running through the walls.
– Teresa Kiplinger
...
Photo: Nolan Issac via Unsplash
Love the art of your jewelry. We’ll done!!!!! I’m an artist who came to jewelry late & always stressed the why of art that you do so well!!!
I love the sad beauty of your poem.
ACHE.. beauty & other things
All my dwellings sweetly live on, whispering of times gone by, bookmarking the spirit of my youth and the passage of time.
so spirit reminiscent
OMG! No words to describe how this hits me – simply a GASP!
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