Finally

Sunday

Legs idling,
Knee socks sliding,
Black patent buckle shoes
Dress up riding.

Kicking slightly,
Mother touches lightly,
Tissue tucked up her sleeve,
Sitting up rightly.

Best coats swishing,
This one wishing
She were anywhere but here
Maybe fishing.
.
.
.
.
.

©WhatHabit and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

2 thoughts on “Sunday”

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