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Nune made tortellini
and we ate it all gone.
The chicken broth was salty,
but we weren’t often thirsty.

Mom did her best with it,
enlisting my brothers and me
to wind noodles and wad the nips.

Now my wife makes pasta
with too much tarragon,
insisting it brings us closer to Earth.

But that’s a…
terra-foregone conclusion.