Belated/Bereaved Poetry Tuesday: For "Cookie" S.

I'll follow you
Like food follows funerals:
With relief and to forget...

There's more to this poem, but that's what I remember off the top of my head.  Of course, we don't forget, do we?





Chocolate cake with sunflower seeds.  Grandpa was a Kansan through-and-through.




My cousin Angie said, "Remember how we all used to put black olives on the ends of our fingers?"

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