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February in the Old Age Home
By JoHannah P. Green
A thought – a flower -
(one memory at a time)
the blossoms
fade.
All golden glory lost
to the eye
to the mind.
What brightly flourished
in Summer’s heat -
a flower – a thought –
(one memory at a time)
fades;
faded now;
crumbling to dust
in Winter’s long shadows.
one thought – one petal at a time
an instant of life extinguished.
I cannot bear to watch
his face.
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