After
the funeral, your house has new sounds.
Pans in the kitchen, boxes and bedding moved, and the high, Italian
chatter of your granddaughters. They catch
two mice who once shared your living room quietness, skittering across the
boards. Where else to free them now but
the cemetery, with its new grave, flowers fluttering, anchored between earth
and sky?
No comments:
Post a Comment