</center>My friend Dixie Anna.
There are those unexpected calls
so rational sounding, such a nice voice
in my ear, jolting me upright.
She fell, moving pictures around.
Who am I to write her obit,
younger than me. She caretook
her Ken until he died, now
she is near death herself.
Sometimes a broken pelvis will
Break more than bones,
Will dent and dement a wider
circle. Already my heart breaks.
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