My friend was dying
Of congestive heart failure
But she was still alert
And a volunteer
Came in to paint her nails.
And when I visited her
She went on and on
About her nails,
And how nice the young girl was
Who painted them.
And I never looked
On that last day
If her nails were painted,
Couldn’t really see them
Through my tears,
But if they were painted
I am sure it made her happy.
This is a touching observation, Connie. Sad, yet poignant and deeply meaningful. It's life's little pleasures that keep all of us going on. Well done. Love, CJ
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God, Connie, youre fantastic! Falling for your story-telling styles. how you incorporate real life themes/tragedies and glorify them by wittling them down to their essences. Remind me of Stein with her grammar etiquette. care, sjg