Life’s minutia, the trivial,
little bits and pieces of our lives
lost in the recesses of memory,
often beg to be recalled
- that girl in the first grade
you fell in love with at six,
you and all the first grade boys
competing for her affection,
Carol Savage and your fifth grade
teacher,
too, Miss Wilson – begging to be
recalled
for no reason than to be remembered,
glimpses of a life long lived,
a meaningless jumble of memories
flashing
into remembrance and retreating again
with a smile, a grin, a grimace,
a warmth left behind in their
passing.
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