The calendar numbers
I was being taught
Were held in their solstice
When you visited our kitchen.
One of my dearest
Thoughts remains
To this very day
How well you fried a chicken.
You were a good Momma to
Your boys and stayed
Happy so others stayed strong.
We mourn us all our loss.
Sometimes cold and gloomy,
Yet those times of laughter,
The aroma of life, still reside there.
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