mother was this age,
she was
on her knees in the garden.
another
case of poison ivy,
on her arms.
a cake
in the oven.
a puzzle on the dining
room table,
three hundred
and seventy nine piece
left
before it's done.
she had a parakeet
in a cage.
she had her sewing
room,
her doll house, with
her specks of glue
putting miniscule chairs
and beds
together.
when my mother was
this age,
she was going strong,
what possibly
could go wrong?
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