Day 413: A Week Without Words (6)

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the empty house

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when did you tire of love, my love?

when did you leave that abode?

was there something I could have done

to keep your eyes from dimming

and your heart from growing cold?

there is no home elsewhere to go

or family to be found,

for all my strength

has been built into these walls.

if empty they’ve been made

and empty they remain

what good is my threshold or grain?

 

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