112

there’s a comfort in family dinners
I can’t quite replicate
a scent I can’t bottle,
a warmth I can’t hold onto

forks scratch the good porcelain
but no one’s chided, the room
filled with my favourites:
the company and accoutrement

9 thoughts on “112

  1. I don’t know if I’ve overanalyzed this, but I think… it’s a good thing that so many people like your poetry. If <100 is so many (curse the famous ones! out of jealousy! of spite! rabble rabble rabble). I.e. what I mean to say is, it seems many crave for the softer days and moments in life, which I think is a victory already. Thank you for taking care of people.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. You’re welcome.

        You know, I like to imagine you’re a bot. It just totally fits the story. Not intended as an insult. Just kind of a cool thing for me.

        Thanks I respect you still.

        Like

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