Remembering

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From the back of the van
through the wild giggles,
squabbling and screeching
I hear:

“Know what’s most important, Mom?
You guys. You and Dad.
I mean, I love my stuffed animals
and all, but you guys are the most important.”

The house is quiet now,
and this memory floats to the top of my mind
having simmered all day
in a cool June summertime way
with outside haircuts and outside play.

It’s ready to bite into.
It’s ready to be remembered,
to make a difference tomorrow
when the sauce isn’t so sweet.

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