Woolen Slippers – A Poem

Woolen Slippers

The brown moccasins
she forgot
in the white snow
listen to the rustling sound
of the sparrows in the
frozen hedge.

Near the spare tires
and stack of cinder blocks
on the side of the house
they sit
in neglected remorse
and frayed vanity.

Her pen drops
landing on the soft,
carpeted floor of her study
by the warm
woolen slippers her feet
now appreciate.

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