Purple Lady Poetry

This space is a shock, an insult.Clean oak boards perfectly swept.No speck or stain toMake me reach for cloth or broom. I could put back the tray, the bowl, the… Read more: The Absence of Things

Keepers of secrets uncountedIn time and place.Lives measured not in lengthBut love and human need.Your brief acquaintance, my grey friend,Is marked in my heart,And your passing is noted.