My six-year-old daughter
makes a picnic lunch in our living room
dressed in her brother’s collared shirt
and flowers in her hair
she makes cucumber sandwiches
but it’s the way she arranges them
on our plates which is special
I know this because I sit on the stairs
above the kitchen watching
as she tries a dozen different variations
for mama
for dad
for Bookey
she whispers to herself
switching them up
and re-naming the plates
finally she is ready
and she calls us down
the same way I do
and when we propose a toast
with purple milkshakes
to family
she says
but when she looks at me
I realize it wasn’t about the sandwiches
she somehow knew
I needed this moment so much.
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