The summer of scrabble and sunshine showers brought
Cold brew, and road trips, and you
I can still see us there, giggling like girls
Singing hymns in the old church pew.
We pass notes and whispers,
Bread, wine
We’re sisters
Singing hymns in the old church pew
The clock has marched on some
I can still hear those hymns sung
Between giggles in the old church pew
– a poem for summer 2024

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