It was a simple house on the outside.
An old gravel driveway led to the
quaint little cottage which lied
on the outskirts of the town.
An aging Christmas wreath,
its needles still holding a twinge of green,
hung from the rustic screen door,
and a faded "Welcome" mat sat
on the small porch at an odd angle.
A small rose garden bloomed along
the front of the house, still alive
thanks to the constant summer rains.
A single window opened into a
small, sparsely decorated living room.
There were roses in there too,
but they lay dormant on the floor,
scattered around a single old recliner
from which the aged man had
refused to move for days,
still remembering the soulmate
he'd lost forever.
The Green Polar Bear
[This message has been edited by TheGreenPolarBear (edited 07-29-99).]