I always try to remember the very last time I can see you. So I watched you walk home today from my bay window. Jeans, slippers, brown crocheted/knitted thing on. Your bag slung across you. Two white papers in your left hand. Hair down. And you walked in the garage door and I missed you.
Peace out.
Monday, November 26, 2007
it
//posted 11/26/2007 12:53:00 AM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
it's stuff like this in my life that i never, ever forget.
Post a Comment