made salads back then,
in a big yellow bowl
chilled
in the fridge overnight
with
a thin stretch
of saran wrap
covering the top.
egg salad,
potato salad,
pasta salads. tossed
and garden
salads, each one
baffling us
with slices of celery
hidden within.
i can see my mother now
carrying
the bowl
to the picnic table,
as we devoured hot dogs.
she'd swat flies away
with her hand
while
two big wooden spoons
swung in her apron.
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