broken hearts and tablecloths

Mother's Nottingham lace

Where to start...

Pulling out every tablecloth to be had
Arranging this and straightening that
Making all in our control
As right as it possibly can be
Tears take their turn as the day unfolds
A fidgeting nervousness comes over me
There is not enough work for these hands
Photographs become treasure without price
A blanket, some clothes. All things remind
Us of the part of our hearts which lay wounded again
With the thought of someone else knowing this pain
This missing and longing to hold and be held
And then, there are the flowers--and music
And sweet reunion with those we have long not seen
Who are still here
And there is comfort
Comfort in the company
For the love and lessons we all share
Like the tablecloths that come out of the closets
To brighten and bless in their simplicity


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