still packaged
in blue, pink and red wrappers
left behind for whom, I wonder
as I put them into a small pile
next to the plastic democratic elephant
and the cheap silver painted earrings.
will they come back to get them, I wonder,
noting that in the hot afternoon sun on the sill
they would soon be baked and I’m not ready
to be a grandmother.
still packaged, I swept them into the
trash bin. there’s more where those
came from, I’m sure.
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