f. ortega in my ears, resonating in my heart
yellow tulips in a vase for cheer
lights brightly on and a warm keyboard
beneath my fingers
crafted birthday cards cleverly hidden
mum puttering around in green pj's
the anticipation of sister and dad
driving our new car home
beds invitingly made in the living room
for tonight's sleep
slightly hungry stomach and tired
eyes, and a deep deep hope that
says all is well, leaving behind
what has been, unaware of what will be
now and here, all is well.
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