Archival Memory Poem #42

When my first cousin got angry he'd shout
to his mother, "I'm going to run away!"
She'd calmly reply, "Tell me when you're
leaving and I'll have a hard-boiled egg for
you." Eugene always reconsidered; never
ran away. Older, drafted into WWII, he was
kissing his mother goodbye. My aunt held
out her hand. "Here's your hard-boiled egg."

2021 Jacqueline Jackson