Barbara says, “Don’t let me forget to be happy about such-and-so”:
poem accepted, headstand in the middle of the room instead of against
the wall, big-thumbs-up teaching evaluation, note from a long-lost friend.
This is the same Barbara who snuggles up behind me at night as I say,
“Ummm,” which is when she says, “How do you know it’s me and not
the clown who lives under the bed?”
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