A Pretty Little HabitA Poem by hollyHe has a little habit, such a pretty little habit of delivering funny tributes on occasions small and large. Did you see the card he sent me with the black crepe and the graveyard with one cartoonish headstone inscribed "You're more than half way here." Now wasn't that amusing? Wasn't that the very limit? Of course, he had that habit that charming little habit of finding the right thing to say no matter circumstance. The last time we had breakfast, he was "shocked" at my appearance, and he counseled me to eat right, and to get my nightly rest. "Of course," he said, "there's not much to disturb you under covers - no lovers waking you at dawn or even in the night. Old age has its compensations." And he said it with a grin. And I grinned back: for I've a little habit and I find it so amusing, just so righteous and amusing, And it's something that will soothe him, make him gentle, make him quiet. If he only could be quiet, really quiet, deathly quiet, then he might not have to die.
© 2008 hollyAuthor's Note
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Added on June 10, 2008Last Updated on July 16, 2008 Authorhollynear Cleveland, OHAboutDo we get to choose who we are, or are we limited by where we live, how we grow up, what we do to earn money? My unchosen facts: I'm old, live in the eastern Mid-West US, grew up with a huge chip on m.. more..Writing
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