Growing Bookshelves
Dad taught me poetry
Read to me
Sat with me
Read my adolescent voice
Never made fun of my desire to
write..
But you taught me new verse
You taught me the names
On your Holy bookshelf
New form, new stanza
Razor sharp swipes
We taught each other acceptance
One person who accepted who I was
One person who saw beyond
what you thought you had to be.
Raised in separate classes by
Smart parents we both
Attached ourselves to broken
winged
Fluid tongues and injured hearts
You grew my bookshelf
I took you to the Philharmonic
Together we owned ourselves
Together we pressed beyond our
limits.
Our lives grew away from one
another
Fifty years carrying our books,
moving our records and cds
led us to separate battles
Mine to live: yours to die now
You wish us both peace.
I wish you win yours quickly.
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