She is popping into my head lately (as she does this time of year). It always takes me a moment to realize why; that the anniversary is looming.
I want her to visit. I want to talk to her. I hear “Another One Bites the Dust” randomly playing at a cafe and immediately picture her, flyswatter in hand, reciting the lyrics and “bum bum bumming” the baseline
dancing for toddler-sized-us on a
dusty Kansas summer day
making us giggle
as she kills
the small
black
flies