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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