Tuesday, April 4, 2006

Boy at the Bus Stop

The sweet faced boy's hands are strong
sharply filed nails claw the ends of fingers
which, move surprisingly gently
Eyes limned thickly with black
a vertical spike rifts the left one.

Like painted tears on a carnival clown
Why is he so sad?
A black handcuff encircles his left wrist
while a cross graces
the right-hand toe of his Converse All-Stars
That is the one visible thing we have in common,
except his are high-tops and
mine are not.

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