Your Bed


I used to think it was odd
that my Mom and Dad
slept in twin beds, pulled
together. Just barely.

The heavy tan sweater
(I always thought it was brown)
is folded neatly on your bed
just below your pillow.

Most of that first year, I tried
not to look in the direction of
your bed; you spent so many
years, living from your bed.

We had to move the furniture
around to get a new recliner
into the room for Dad. He
cried when we moved your bed.

We still try to move about the room
without bumping your bed. We are
probably more careful now,
than when you were in your bed.

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