Poem By Gillian Thurlby

An empty shell
Wearing an expression that I recognise
Fingers holding yellow freesias
Curtains unhooked
Bookcases bare
Spaces once filled with love
And pain
Still familiar
But different
The trees have seen it all
Carpets spotless, furniture removed
White sheet pulled tight and tidy
Earth to earth
Read the meter
Dust to dust
Lock the doors
Ashes to ashes
Hand over the keys

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How many feelings feel
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