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Toast For My Dad

You always loved your toast burnt Black and ashy and crisp Marmalade piled on top - gluey mound Orange rinds like cuticles - liberally spread Soaking into the blackened bread When I think about you two years on Its not so much the big things that stick out But the little slices of life - if you will And the smell of citrus and scorched crumbs remains, still

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Date: 1/3/2018 2:47:00 AM
A daughter reflects. You remember detail. Somehow I feel the ode goes on.
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Date: 6/2/2017 5:06:00 PM
I love this :) xomo!
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Date: 5/22/2017 5:09:00 AM
Hi Zara ,nice to meet, beautiful write , you are so right the small things like sound , smells , seeing all have a place , I think it is the good healing part of grief :)) hugs from Ireland
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Bosman Avatar
Zara Bosman
Date: 5/24/2017 6:23:00 PM
Date: 5/17/2017 6:28:00 AM
a real cool piece I have read today
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