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Oct 2015
I remember
The sound of my mother's piano playing
To wake me up on each Sunday morning

I remember
Laying with my dad, eyes closed, listening,
To his favorite classical music

I remember
My sister's favorite TV shows
The sharp smell of salt & vinegar chips

I remember
My brother, full of jokes
Giggling at his ridiculousness

They remember
Small me, afraid of the world
Distracted and half dressed

We remember
But do are we open?
Can we accept the new?

I see my mother
She can't play piano anymore
She listens to my playing now

I see my father
He stood up from the sidelines
He picked up a guitar, and I listen

I see my sister
Rarely, and she doesn't see me
She still sees a teenager

I don't see my brother
Maybe twice a year
He still sees a toddler

But I remember.
B M Clark
Written by
B M Clark  Lethbridge Alberta Canada
(Lethbridge Alberta Canada)   
389
 
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