Standing
Standing at the door--
to knock would be unheard.
A letter like many before;
now tucked in and waiting.
Days roll by, and I remember going
Into the house of my little sister.
Now who will read, since you're
Gone?
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Author Notes
Thanks so much to ASFPoyser for this emotive photo.
I used to take my younger (only) sister a copy of the church letter, I write. She always loved it and would put it on her bulletin board for anyone to read. Her daughter lives at this home now, but is away often. Still when I go to the house, sometimes I just stand there a few minutes, at the door, though no one is there. I lost my sister in February. I really don't like writing poems of sadness, but I have to write Mary in, at times.
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