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One of my very best friends, along with her husband and kids, are visiting tonight.  I love that these, my beloved peeps, are now sleeping under this roof. Hope it is safe.  Why do we live so far away from our favorite people? Tesseract, please.

Gotta poem quick and get to sleep:

Here in My Kitchen

Oh, how I’ve missed them all. Her oldest, at nine or nearly, looks about fourteen and talks about fourteen, with gadgets and headphones and t-shirt attitude, and yet, when I see him I still see the babe in arms who grabbed onto my hair and would let go. And when I see her smallest I see the fight in her, all gathered up into one little, blonde, pigtailed girl, in blue jeans, nearly the same as that day on the playground or in the classroom, the same big grin and hand-gestures, this bliss gets to stay here. Those are here in my kitchen tonight, and this is my blessing.

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Close enough. I have friends sleeping in my house tonight. I count that as a stitch in this heart of mine. Happy Wednesday, poemfriends.

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