Tuesday, January 2, 2024

A Poet's First Memory

ascending alphabet block steps
a raggedy Bert and a Play Doh Ernie 
all falling apart
under big colorful tree lights 
burning bulbs the shape of eggs

and my big brother nine years older
left trapped in the trailer in charge
said no he wouldn’t play with me
because i was too little and it was too boring
but i watched as he sat at the table
staring up through the trailer skylight
at the day after Christmas overcast sky

and my vision blurred and i hid my tears
i understood even then that would never change
and i mashed up the companion he’d made me
leaving the boring one alone
sitting atop that pile of letters

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