1
Your hair stood up like a spooked cat’s back.
Your face was rough and red like the sandpaper you carried in your belt.
Your center- firm like a solid trunk.
Strong arms dropped down from soft round shoulders
your neck-always twisting white creases where the sun had not burned your skin
2 a face like fire red, burnt- stern as if you were an embittered chief
your hair the smoke lurking above the fizzling flame
5 Each summer You wore your
White cut off shorts
They were in shreds.
I know what it’s like
To cling to you.
To be so ragged, disheveled,
Hopeful.
And yet, You took me out Season after season
Because I was all you had.
COPYRIGHT 2019 KAYLEEN SPICER
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