table for blogMG_0079

The single drawer in the night table

Holds things that I hold dear

But none so dear as the missives

From my sister through the years.

She was a happy and generous person

Loved by all she knew

She enjoyed parties and plays and then some

We danced until the curfew blew.

She suffered a loss that changed her

Though she tried to carry on

It became too much for her to bear

And now I have the letters in the drawer.