Each of Them

She was careless with her
memories, frequently misplaced,
later found in a drawer with a
useless key or tangled in the
pocket fluff of her old jeans.

His account was neatly pressed
and hanging.
Heavy starch.
Ready to be worn.

Each of them
had difficulties
sleeping.

Morning coffee
a dreadful reminder.

Only one cup.

 ©2014 j.g. lewis

This month is all about poetry.
Something new every day.