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SmileSome days I find it so hard to smile,
Then I look up to see your smiling face.
The imagination in your quaint eyes,
Makes my pulse race.
Some days I find it so hard to breathe,
Then I open my lungs to all the air.
The oxygen clears the fear from my mind,
And leaves me bare.
Some days I find it so easy to smile,
Even when things around me are broken.
I hear the pain in the parents blue words,
So soft spoken.
Some days I find it so easy to breathe,
Through the thick fog, the bitter thoughts of life.
The hostile images fill the air,
With unadulterated strife.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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