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LJW Aug 2021
bigger than I am,
more financially resolved,
he rejected tents
and festival colors.
now he walks with big steps,
I imagine 1000 ft. tall,
swishing in a blue suit.
all that I could hope for.

I hope he wins from life
what he desires.
LJW May 2021
The child remembers my failings,
so much so he separates.
The day he disembarked from the bus,
leaving me in my seat,
doing what he was told.

I can't even say if he turned around,
to wave. Was he scared?
Off he wandered,
on his 10 year legs, into town, alone.

Did anything traumatic happen to him that day?
Did he cry because he had noone with him?
Does he hold resentment from being left
to fend for himself
the entire day?

A small child
with no one to watch over him.
So much so
He doesn't care
to know me?
I wish I could go back in time and grab that little boy, and redo that whole time in life. What was I thinking leaving my young son spend the whole day alone in the town park as I took the bus on to work. I know I didn't have anyone to turn to, or I thought I didn't, and I had to work so we could find a place to live. But I can't imagine how scared he might have been.
LJW May 2021
You don't know how this feels.

Most probably
there are people at your table
fighting over puffs of corn
or raging pink and blue rings of sugar laced
Os.

You might be wrapped in an embrace now,
a man creeping up behind you
smoldering a fire between your shoulders with his lips.

Or your mother is smashing beans or broccoli,
your father is relaxing in front of the news,
or sweating after a day of work.

Perhaps, your friends are calling to invite you out to play.
LJW Apr 2021
Poetry is the voice of the simple.
Even the simple understand grief
abandonment
terror
devastation
surprise
elation
satisfactio­n
delight
resolve
surrender
c. April 7, 2020
LJW Apr 2021
The agony of love
can know nothing
of the blood
that spills
niagra style
out of my heart.

You are walking, I am walking;
We breathe in the same-exact-moment
We are both alive.

It is like my womb still holds us both
we are twins being warmed by the same pulsing beat of life.
Our skin is the same one made from the other.

I am following you,
seeking you,
my mind reaches for you.
c. April 7, 2021
LJW Feb 2021
GO OUTSIDE!!!!

three women looked in at me
one black man barely glanced,

I couldn't step onto the stage
that year, or any other year.

thirty thirteen year-olds
moved into the arena like cattle

wearing too much lipstick. unstoppable.
385,000 babies entered the world that day,

all crying. I became irritated, anxious,
like I needed to go back in time.

I kept reading, losing my breath, until I had to leave the room.
c. Feb. 27, 2021
LJW Feb 2021
There is a hope in our children
when we birth their tiny hands
waiting for them to make their
first markings.

They are bluish, cloudless skies and
miracles, like magicians
out of thin air
waving wands coaxing
a future mother has been
dreaming of.
c. Feb. 27, 2021
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