From the entry hall I quietly observe The plump old woman Wrapped in a shawl and sitting in a rocking chair A shaft of sunlight lances through the window Her cat is curled on the footstool beside her The ornately trimmed grandfather clock On the carpeted landing Tells me the precise time I wonder if she sits here everyday I assume she does Perhaps I will come back again To and take in this scene Hung on the gallery wall To satisfy the gawker in us all
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