Sunday phone call

Seems so odd, what we remember.

With such a vast store of memories,

I miss the Sunday call, 
very long-distance,

with my Mom. 
The last one ─

about eighteen years ago.

Usually, we talked about weather or

breakfast, or what she had seen on t.v.  

Sometimes we would talk wildflowers:

a great love learned from her Mom.

Seems so odd, what we remember.