The grass was not as green today.
The cold last night must have won,
While I was packing your clothes.
I did not notice it browning,
I was in a sea of holey socks,
Seeking pairs, folding underwear.
You would have thought it funny,
Me hating laundry, surrounded
By walls of shirts, crashing down on me.
I packed all your tools, your papers,
Organized in their designated folder.
I gathered your records, your drawings,
Stacked your movies neatly in boxes.
But our photos, no-- I will leave
Them squared on the wall.
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