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Mama wrote another poem



by Carrie Friedman


“The world is SO wonderful!”

she exclaims one Saturday morning

as she and her sister ride their scooters behind me

on a walk to the coffee shop.

“But I could do without all the cracks,”

she says, pointing at the sidewalk.


Her scooter’s front wheel got caught on one once

and tipped her, face first, into the pavement.

She wasn’t even two when it happened,

but it doesn’t matter how old she was.


You don’t forget such things.


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