Sitting in my sitting room

Youngest son is putting together the latest IKEA purchase.

All that I can do is hand him the screws.

It’s more than I could do yesterday.

I’m trying to be positive.

Feeling sorry for myself is so — ugly.

And tiring.

Thank goodness for IKEA

Without which I wouldn’t have furniture.

Or what to do with adult kids.

Since I can’t talk anymore.

Making conversation a thing of the past

(But I can listen…)

Thank goodness for IKEA

A mother’s friend.


One thought on “Poetry 

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