Too Much

The old lady
who raised me
called me on
the phone
last night.

“Don’t you have
a birthday
coming up
next week?”
I teased.

“How old are you
going to be, anyway?”

“Ooh, ja!”
she croons
in response.

“Too much,
too much,
too much!”

What she has
always been.
What she will
always be.
What I will
always attempt
to live up to.

Too much.
Happy early birthday, Eva! I can only hope to be as young as you when I get to be your age.


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