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Picking Hazelnuts
I recall being four years old
and picking hazelnuts with mum.
Fall was chilly, but not too cold,
and we'd picked some to be sold.
Your dad's off to war; I got told,
I didn't know that he would come.
I recall being four years old,
and picking hazelnuts with mum.
I didn't know that he would come,
it felt like a punch in the gut.
Mum used to love to sing and hum,
and on occasion, she'd dance some.
She'd bake cookies, with every crumb
packed full of roasted hazelnut.
I didn't know that he would come,
it felt like a punch in the gut.
(Intertwining Triolets)
4/22/18
Copyright ©
Emile Pinet
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