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The first day at school pales into insignificance
Beside a concrete cavity where we play
And, retching on my own happiness,
I venture where my mother told me to stay away.
(That same nausea comes back to me on a random autumn day.)

The black clouds balanced, sagging
Over branches of trees
Ready to be grasped
And scraping our young knees we chase them fast.
(He’s not my real brother.)

My mother never told me there’d be things to fear in darkness
So my nightmares lived in mouse-holes instead.
And I slept soundly in my bed.
(They always hid the reasons for my protection)
Stale gravestones in a translucent reflection.

Walking free beside the road
Tied to the pavement
By the maturity in my laces
I watch others’ faces behind my commercial mask.
(It happens all the time.)

The steam rising off dry ice
Was the look in his eyes
When I walked along the garden wall in bare feet.
An attempt to make sense of broken families.
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February 27, 2006
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