Marshmallow Manna

In childhood they were “marshmallow chickies,”
All soft and yellow, crunchy sugar birds.
Still soft and sweet and simple little stickies.
But neon chicks and rabbits? How absurd!

I close my eyes to eat them and recall —
My teeth on edge, I chew them with my tongue.
Of Easter fare I love them most of all,
As much today as back when I was young.

I wonder, will their sugar coat dissolve
As quickly as marshmallow melts away?
The answers, now as then, will still revolve
Around that tastebud/sweet tooth interplay.

Tastebuds die. Teeth fall out. Still, nothing keeps
Me from my Springtime rendezvous with Peeps.

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