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We Remember
On the count of three, we sprinted away
From danger. Our feet tripped over the banks
Of white with snowshoes – homemade by duct-taped
Plywood. A ravenous polar bear nipped
At our heels, and the flurries burned my cheeks.
I twisted my head to look to my side;
A young image of Dad jogging close behind,
Smiling, describing winter’s adventure.
