The House of Flora

  They loved in thermal and frumpy sweaters.
  When the cold came against their cheeks,
  He'd lay his head on her lap and hum
  Amos Lee's "In the Arms of a Woman."

  She was a little woman-

  Such a little woman.

  "Now, most days I've spent like a child,
   Who's afraid of ghosts in the night.
   I know there ain't nothing out there-
   I'm still, afraid to turn on the light."