Still Exceptional

Maybe, in time, she'll slip up, and let me
Grow used to the sight of that leather bag
On the floor of the hallway when I come in,
Defeated again by an ending day. Maybe,
She'll cease to be hard to find, and I won't
Be so thrilled by the thought that I'll see her
Somewhere in this house, in the kitchen
Or bedroom, still in her suit, or ready
To wrestle, and I'll take for granted how
Lucky I am to have her return to me.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 93 times
Written on 2018-12-27 at 17:34

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Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
This is also short, but less stark. All at Coo & Co appreciate the attention to detail :>)