Your first Peep of Easter,
A bright thing that melts
and sticks to the roof of
your mouth, a child's comfort
that you put away for
healthy greens and carrots
and thin slices of lamb
But I like memory of you
when you were a bright thing,
a ruddy-cheeked smile split from
dimple to dimple and I miss
the way you found laughter
simply in holding hands or
the way odd clouds at sunset.
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