ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤsuddenly, there's nothing to do and too
ㅤㅤㅤmuch— the lawn, paths, woods were never
ㅤㅤㅤso green white blossoms of every size and
ㅤㅤㅤshape—hydrangea, mock orange spill their
ㅤㅤㅤglistening. inside, your photographs and
ㅤㅤㅤbooks stand guard in orderly array. your
ㅤㅤㅤhalf of the bed is smooth, the pillows
ㅤㅤㅤplump, the phone just out of reach beyond
ㅤㅤㅤit.

ㅤno one calls early—they remember your late
ㅤhours. the shades are down, so sunlight's held at
ㅤbay though not the fabulous winged song of
ㅤsummer birds waking me as ever, always in our
ㅤfavorite room, our season.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyesterday's mail on the desk newspaper,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤunread– telegram.dog/anentbot. 📞
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ