A plate and a poem

When my dear brother Bill was spending his last days in the hospice last October, his wife, my sister-in-law Lottie, sent me a poem and a photo. She had dreamed of birds flying away to warmer climes after the summer and wondered if the dream had been inspired by the old-fashioned bird design on the hospice room curtains. As I awoke this morning, I dreamt of…

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