Dear Da
You whispered to me to
follow
you into the kitchen
finger on your lips
smile on your face
as you reached into the
back of the cabinet
and with my hand outstretched I
took the pinch of brown sugar you
offered each time I came
to visit because I
would follow you anywhere
One thought on "Dear Da"
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Horses get that way after a few days of sugar, white, brown, loose or in cubes. I understand this poem without the horses as well.