The retirees lived in a world of their own
With the spirits of those who had passed on
Books previous residents left
House plants that had outgrown their pots
But were still beautiful and lively
Somehow their little haven intact
Their collections and hobbies had become their lives
Their pet names and inside jokes gluing their days together
Long hours spent playing their instruments
Or picking fruit from the orchard
Death comes imposingly like imperial soldiers
To carry you off despite the grand sacrifices
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