I remember walking 
around the playground
in elementary school 
talking with my friend,
who is still my friend 
today, about half-birthdays.
She imagined celebrating
a birthday in May
while I dreamed of
celebrating in February.
I pictured blowing out candles 
in winter and having a party 
for the fun of it.
A half year of living is
always worthy of a 
slice of cake.
Every year on 
the 25th of February, 
I think of this memory
and smile. Oh to be young, 
imagining the unsung
celebrations that do 
not happen but having them
stick in my brain 
as a memory anyway.

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