Jean

Twiglets “Layers of Clouds”

Studies me through gloomy clouds
straining past the thin layers
that complicate her knowing
I seem familiar to her
one who carries a brave smile
pats her hand, kisses her head.

I talk about the weather,
the season, flowers blooming.
She looks at the daffodils
in a vase beside her bed
she smiles and nods as I speak
hopes this stranger comes again.

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7 Responses to Jean

  1. Ron. says:

    I had a jean once. I miss her so. We’ll probably all be Jean someday, eh?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Misky says:

    If a stranger brought me flowers, I’d be doubly delighted. Hopefully I’d know they were flowers.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. So sad. My mother, now my husband. I wonder, can I be far behind?

    Like

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