The Manor House Poem by Kathy Greethurst
The Manor House
She brings tea into the morning room,
her fingers folded
over the handles of the tray.
She pours milk
into a bone china cup;
her fingers brush mine.
I resolve to speak to her tomorrow,
tell her it's over,
retrieve my pearls.
Thursday, February 18, 2021
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5/5/2024 8:42:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
