This is a poem written by my dad, Jim Lowery, as a tribute to my mom.
Jim Croce, that song, that album.
I played it over and over when...
I played it every day
For a month
When the woman I married, left.
She left suddenly, without warning.
She left a replacement in her stead.
But it was not the same.
Photographs and memories
All that I have are these
to remember you
Thanks, Dad, for writing a poem that doesn't rhyme.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
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