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Assignment this week is to write a poem so here goes.  Inspired by Ecclesiastes 7: 2-4

The House of Mourning

The house of mourning has many guests, but holds no rooms for dwellers.

For you will pass through from time to time, but you cannot stay.

Mom arrived during the first bright week of October and we raced there to join her.

With her came a host of lifeless companions that gasped and moaned, and beeped and purred.

Anxious tension soon arrived as well, and accompanied Dad’s every step

We held the door shut to Reason and wouldn’t let her in while we entertained guests,

Misguided Hope,

Wishful Thinking,

Entitlement and Self-sufficiency.

When it was time for the machines to leave we realized that Mom was already gone,

never to visit the House of Mourning again and gently,

unlooked for,

last of all the guests,

Hope finally arrived.