Oft, She Wondered

Oft, she wondered where it went to —
Naive tender girlish fun —
Days of sweetness filled her life then
Now those days are over. Done.

Soft, at night, she years the rumble
Of the heater – or the past —
Memories float in like bubbles
But the feelings do not last —

There’s a mother’s heart that’s beating
Strongly still within her breast:
Only broken shells of memory
Here within this


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9 Thoughts to “Oft, She Wondered

  1. She “years” the mumble or “hears” the mumble?
    I am curious about your word choice. Is it intentional or a typo?

    I continue to enjoy your structure and lyrical rhythm.

  2. My wife misses our girls being young so much that its palpable. Now we have a grandson, and that seems to be a whole other thing completely.

    Thanks, Merry.

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