Cinnamon

By
The laughs and giggles once crammed
this soft-lit cottage now mourned.
The irises now stand limp,
since the water dried
from your green thumb.

The grandfather clock tells time
Ding Dong Ding Dong...
the hour which it chimes
Doesn't sound the same,
as when you used to sing
our favorite Christmas carols.

The scorching summer sun tempted
us to the water and you watched
us fly off the dock.
"Hey, do you have sun screen on?"
Your laughter helped cushion the fall
to the icy, blue depth.

Together we concocted our beloved treat,
overflowing with the enticing
scent of cinnamon apple muffins.
The sweetness disintegrated,
since you've been gone.





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