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Lauren

Betsy Littrell

I wanted to plop backwards in the

snow and wave my arms and legs

up and down, making a snow angel

next to you. I wanted to read Where the Wild Things Are

with a flashlight under a blanket fort with

you. To run with you through a

meadow, picking every dandelion,

blowing seeds in the wind.

I wanted to jump the waves, holding

your hand, while we looked for sand

dollars together. Instead, there was

blood, and somebody must have yanked

the bones from my body because I

crumpled into a lifeless heap of flesh on

the linoleum floor. I only hope

to meet you one day. I swear

I smell baby powder.

And a friend left flowers on the porch.

About the Author

Betsy Littrell is a whimsical soccer mom to four boys, working on her MFA in creative writing at San Diego State University. Her recent publications include The Write Launch and The Road Not Taken. In addition, she is a journalist at KGTV and volunteers with Poetic Youth, teaching poetry to underserved elementary students.

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