The Memory Sharers

Your death was no surprise
Well into your ninth decade
Almost a centenarian in fact
We do not use that word

We enter the controlled chaos
Of rooms once shared
By four sisters, three now gone
The long hall, the wallpaper,
The pattern of our goings and returns,
The bathroom door
Squeaked when it opened
Closed without sound
Four sisters opened and closed
The same doors
Until we walked
Through other doors
To other rooms, and
What we shared
Passed into memory
Memory has a potency
When four sisters share it
Three sisters, even two, will do
But one, alone, will not suffice

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