Forty Something : Stomping

Simple things that I miss.
Lounging over me on large chairs,
Like I’m the throne,
She the queen.
Random laughter at unfortunate things,
Dead bird,
Pretty bird.
She walks hard, with confidence,
Each step rings in my heart,
As she walked to me,
Through me,
And far beyond.
Where she will always stay.
Far, far beyond.

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