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She sits alone in her house

waiting

for children who never come.

Alone by the window

peeking through the curtains at the world outside.

The world that changed and left her behind.

She has no friends,

only memories.

At night they curl round her

as ghosts keep vigil.

She waits.

Not knowing what she is waiting for.

Death maybe

but

it does not come

only regret

a life wasted

waiting

for life to begin.

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Over 50 and fabulous living and writing in Appalachia

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