By: Ardis E. Parshall - April 19, 2018 When You Come Back By Estelle Webb Thomas Your hat is hanging in the hallIn its accustomed place;The battered thing that used to crownYour laughing, boyish face.Your things are where they used to beOn shelf, in drawer and rack.We’ve left them so you’ll find them thereWhen you come back. The house is full of emptiness,A sort of waiting strain,As if the old rooms held their breathTill you get back...
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