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About This Poem
Remembering
We met on a Saturday,
on a sandy beach.
Worshipping the sun,
back then when it was
safe.
Speaking of small things,
that I now hardly remember.
But I do know,
I never ask you
your favorite color,
or what flowers you liked.
How strange it seems,
remembering the small things
in life,
while the larger things
appear so
important.
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