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In Memory

Coffee first thing

The percolator, always dripping

Four slices of toast

Lined up in their rack

A glass of orange juice

Everything had its place.

You eating your sausage –

Cumberland with marmalade –

When the Witch wasn’t looking

You’d pass me some toast

“Don’t worry sweetie, you won’t get fat”

In the reck-room

Reclined in your easy chair

Enjoying total silence, save for

the crinkle of the paper.

Glasses perched on the

end of your nose

Reflecting back

a not so pretty child

But you’d dip your head

Sneak me a wink

And when you smiled

I knew

Where I got my dimples from.

(Lisa Harte, April 2015)

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