Holy Jesus Year!

My wife recently had a birthday, as people are wont to do.

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A poem fit for a 33-year-old.

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I wish I could say I have a sophisticated sense of humor, but alas, this was the result of about four minutes of belly-laughing in a Rite-Aid.

Birthday smells –
Candles, freshly extinguished,
The scent and taste of colorful balloons,
Festive and fragile;
A tablecloth adorned with appropriate design –
If anyone says you’re
“Too old” for one, gently remind them that
There is no age limit on
Joy.

Embrace the embarrassing
Recollections and stories
Whose premises were thin
Even when they were new –
This is an expression of love,
Friendly, familial ribbing;
You know you’ll do the same
To them.

Three cheers for cake,
Shredded wrapping paper,
Gratuitous tape usage, and
None-too-frequent gatherings
Under the same roof,
For tonight, for you.

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