All day it rains.
The lawn holds a silver lake.
Inside the house
I lay my hands on all the pieces of paper
that tell the story of Robin's illness.
I put them away
in neat piles
in files
in boxes
under the table.
And my sister hugs me through
the memories
which leak out of the folders
and seep into
the lake of
my heart.
My new kettle.
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