not my favorite TV trash series
not the number of months in a couple of years
not the year we got engaged
and were rising stars and then falling.
it's the number of candles on a cake,
freckles sprinkled across a nose,
friends who wished you a happy birthday
and more, curls which blow in the wind,
strangers who tell you you're beautiful,
conferences you'll attend, questions you'll
ask that stump them.
it's a quarter century minus one,
just as I am minus one on your birthday,
minus you.
I will send you twenty-four hugs over
the line.
Happy Birthday, Karen.
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