Sunday, April 6, 2025

batons in the air

she shows
me
her pom pom routine
from
1975.
putting on her white
boots
her spangled
skirt
and blouse,
her tall hat with a gold
medallion
attached.
everything still fits
like a glove.
we put on some marching
music.
she spins her rusted baton,
tossing it in the air.
and around
the room she goes.
having not
lost a step.
yesterday is a blink away.
we're forever young,
never old.

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