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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Maryfrances Wagner


 

Running Out of Choices

The summer we rode the merry-go-round,
my hair flying behind me, yours now covered
in silk scarves, we promised to keep riding
every Saturday, each time choosing a different
horse. We promised to keep taking swim classes,
to finish sewing buttons on our treasure bags
and adding inside some of our favorite things
we'd found on Little Blue Trail. In winter, we
sipped cocoa, your head now snug under a woolen
cap. We counted out four sugar cookies each
that we had rolled and cut into bells and stars
the day before. You won game after game of Chinese
Checkers, each win gaining you another cookie
but not another year. By December, the rocking
horse ornament I bought you for Christmas hung
on my tree by the star you gave me the year before.