The flowers are nice,
the chocolates too—
the brunch was lovely,
but the cards, oh yes, the cards:
sweet and silly and precious,
crayoned, penciled, signed
with words like “love”,
like “happy”, like “mom”.
Your name. Mine. These words.
Just give me all these words,
scrawled and scribbled
illustrated love
tucked away treasures
in recipe boxes, drawers, and books.
I love them--and you--most of all.
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