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Mother’s Cooking

Steam rises gently,

Her hands dance with spice and love,

Home tastes warm and safe.

One bite of the rich

And flavorful cinnamon,

Childhood fills my chest .

Crackling oil sings,

Smell of the onion tearing.

Home is in the air.

Mother’s apron lost.

Sound of pots clanging together.

The fires dimmed light.

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