Moving into quiet days
Summer months stretching long and thin
You flush in the heat and I
can see the boy you were
running wild in the sprinklers
with a skinned-knee girl
Maybe we were only meant to parent ourselves
Maybe being broken broke the cycle
Maybe mending happens this way,
with slow deliberation,
side-by-side at a distance
-rjm
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Jo McCrory is a writer and artist living in northern California.
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