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Jan 2017
At the breakfast table-
Visions of my mother
Slicing strawberries
For my cereal.

Her hands..
Purposeful, skilled.
Beholding a lifetime
Of textured dexterity.

And now I sit,
Alone in the same chair,
Stirring milk
Into my coffee.

No longer bound there
By dependence,
I slice strawberries
For my cereal.
fire in her eyes
Written by
fire in her eyes
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