To My Lola Charry

A stifling breeze barges into the room
And your hand shuts the door
You find a weak flame and
You feed it, feed it, feed it

A pen on a blank notebook
And you are the writer
You fill the empty notebook
Page after page after page

A bud in a crack on the wall
And you are the gardener
You water it every day
Until it grows, grows, grows

Thank you for keeping me warm
Thank you for my history
Thank you for nourishing me

I love you, lola.

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