You stand, grinning, on your front lawn
feet planted firmly on the ground,
holding a beet by the green,
damp earth still clinging to it.
This image captured in my mind
in too bright colours.
Two handed you throw the veg. high
screaming its name - laughing
Beet - a - root!
My sister, trying not to wet herself
rolls on the grass, calling
‘again, again, again’.
I rewind the memory and watch
again, again, again.
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