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You remember how Mama talked
on and on
about the old days? Those times,
her times, that didn’t matter to us then?
But she kept on talking anyway . . . 
And we thought her mind was giving out.
O Mama
how could we know
you were only trying to die
without all your precious memories
locked up inside you forever
all those memories we never even wondered about.
Carolyne Butler
(Copyright © 2000)