"Do you Means it?"

On Sunday, you would be 74 years old

On Sunday we would be eating fried chicken legs, mashed potatos and gravy and a birthday cake, just like we did for your birthday every year

I know you loved my fried chicken, Mama

We would sing happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mama, happy birthday to you

and you

You would read your birthday cards, pausing after each one to ask, "Do you means it?"

and each of us did

We meant it, Mama, every sweet verse and every hand scrawled word, every I love you

For a while, I thought each day of how I thought of you each day

I don't think anymore about how many days I've thought of you, Mama

I just know I think of you

I just know

we all think of you

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