for Becky “Tutu” Connable

smiling is not the same as laughing but some days smiling is all i can find

laughter, misplaced like so much else; i forget where i left it so i whistle instead to myself and not all the way like a hesitant kettle like the wind sneaking in after dark

i expect i’ll find it again one day just as i stumbled across some fond memories yesterday, under the bed though, of course, not everything wants to be found

i’ve lost so many things but what a blessing to have had them in the first place

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