The Moya View
He cradled her from birth, first steps.And he carried her to death, last steps.One was once her father. The other was her life mate.After her funeral , on this bench,they talked and commiserated.Ever since, their bench talks grew tomore kids, sports, small memories of her.
This poem has a mirror poem- She Supposes.
Excellent use of imagination.. This seems very real
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