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Littles

Elephants bumble through the jungle

of my sleepy brain elephants and polka dots

my two small nieces one a baby wrapped

up in stars her sister’s head a pouf of curl, eyes agaze.

When my boys were little

I liked to drift into the fancy lands

of books as I read to them

three warm bodies pressed

close as ever close

four blue and two brown eyes

intent on the colorful pictures

their own fierce imaginings

carrying them wherever they went

as the words marched forth.

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