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Jun 2021
Tippy toe, tippy toe. tippy, tippy toe, toe
I somehow never hear you come -
I almost never hear you go.

Like a puff of smoke
You drift through my life.
Almost impossible to be your wife.

I never know where in the house you are;
Upstairs, downstairs or at the corner bar;
Inside, outside or someplace very far.

You walk like a phantom,
Your feet don’t touch the floor.
You make not a sound when closing a door.

Trained from your childhood to not make a sound;
I need to put a bell on you to know you’re around.
ljm
My hubby grew up in a 2nd floor apartment with thin walls and floors and grumpy neighbors down below.
Written by
Lori Jones McCaffery  F/Laughlin, Nevada
(F/Laughlin, Nevada)   
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