Sweet Cherries
When I brave the cold
this
winter, I will go
to my own attic
to sort and fold,
sending
stuff off
to the thrift shop, but maybe,
holding on
to
one pair of bellbottoms
red, white, and blue—
Sergeant Peppers pants,
even
to wear.
Who am I kidding!
But I can’t let go.
Even
she said, one month
before she died,
Take me home,
I
need to see
my roses, I need
to taste,
one
last time,
the sweet cherries.
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