You remind me
You remind me In the funeral home aisle, you came to me and told me that you were thinking about me two or three days ago. I put my left arm so light as air around you as if to say I miss you, too-- to suggest that you give me poetry again. So you might know I’ll write your poem upon my heart.
4 thoughts on "You remind me"
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Love this!
Thanks for your warm reply, Linda.
Touch can mean so much! Poets carry all those words and feelings inside the heart, don’t they? On good days, we get to let them out to play and sing.
Poets are in tune with their feelings and their good days. Thanks, Sylvia…