Twiced

A broken woman sat in an empty pew

of the rundown community church,

letting the sands of time slip between her aching fingers.



It wasn’t even Sunday,

but the thrill of finding pennies on the sidewalk

kept her coming faithfully.



She fussed with the frayed seams of her favorite dress;

she would have played C-C-Cat’s Cradle with the loose threads,

but she just couldn’t remember the steps anymore.



The diagnosis:

Life in Reverse,

seeing the world through the eyes of a child.



It’s a shame she forgot the other yesterdays

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