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Living room fire

by Veronica Valentine 10 months ago in sad poetry

A poem by my deceased husband

Living Room Fire”

You’ve brought me in

from out of the cold

into your home

to rest beside your living room fire.

It’s so different

than drifting through streets

lined through boutiques

where I can look but not have.

Where I’m moving through strangers

turned familiar

by formal politeness

or warm hearted visits

as I keep passing by.

Sometimes visits so brief

I don’t change

out of my traveling clothes

grimy from the road

grimy from myself.

But you’ve offered me a place

to stay longer than just passing.

You’ve offered me a place

to wash and air out

my dirty laundry

so that it’s clean again. And fresh.

So that I can feel clean again, and young.

Please forgive my strangeness,

my anxiety,

critical at minor details.

Three weeks ago

I knew where I was heading,

and apprehensive about

my reality slipping.

Guided by hope, a vague idea,

not a real person. Like you.

I’ve become comfortable in

not being too close to people.

But you offer me closeness,

Like Springsteen’s ‘Human Touch’.

It’s different than my vague ideas

shaped through solitude

window shopping,



and sleeping alone.

Your closeness is human.

It’s not an idea.

It’s flesh and heart.

It’s you. All you.

Some of your particulars may be different

than my vague notions,

as you are alive

and my notions are a figment.

Forgive me,

if I need time to adjust

to the you that’s offering me a doorway

out of the cold,

Away from my mind trap,

that’s keeping me cold

keeping me away from

someone warm and alive

like you

Human and inviting

sad poetry

Veronica Valentine

Writing into the void!

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