Dear Diary 8.17.15

Standing in my parents’ kitchen this morning

I’m struck by the peculiar feeling

That I’ve dreamed this morning before

Months or years before

And the feeling sticks with me

Most of the day.

Yesterday in the car

Spontaneous tears flowed

From my mother’s eyes

When the D word was spoken out loud

Instead of simply inferred

As usual.

Tonight I took Baby Girl out on the town

We went out shopping

Then indulged in a shared platter of ice cream

Atop a plate-size cookie

That we had no chance of finishing;

I let her get a Coke and she claimed to like it,

But only took a few sips.

She never did care for bubbles.

On the way to the mall she wrinkled her nose

In the backseat

(I couldn’t see that but I could hear it)

And asked “What’s that smell?”

I told her it was hay,

That I found it sort of sweet smelling,

That horse barns smelled like it.

Then she decided she wanted to live on a farm

And that the smell wasn’t so bad.

On the ride home, before she fell asleep,

She said goodnight to the barely there light

Of the sun

Then hello to all the pretty stars blooming overhead.

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