Ellen's Cupcake
My thoughts edge out at a slowing pace
From memory to memory with rusted grace
There’s a picture standing beside my chair
It strains my thought and harbors my stare
The photo itself, a grayed black and white
It’s perfectly framed in the autumn light
There we are on a bench on a pier
I remember neither from yesteryear
There in my palm is a warm cupcake
An offering to her, its hers to take
Her smile and eyes suggest warmth too
Once more I wonder if she knew
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