The old bags and boxes sit there waiting
Indeterminately for a place to belong.
And along with all the reasons now fading
Into what was once an autumn wedding
song.
The wine has mellowed in bittersweet
Memories that hesitate and will not leave
For the heart holds dearly to its entreat
Of time that now seems ever so cold and
reave.
The garden too, untended and oh... so
dry-
Waiting the soothing tears of a good cry.
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