Poem--The Clock That Opens Time

Standing at the bathroom sink
brushing my teeth
I think about the time
my brother pulled the golden
glass-domed clock
from her desk
and she cried and said
because it wasn't cylindrical
but more oval, the glass couldn't be replaced.
And I felt her pain and said
I'm sorry,
and felt that moment that
I was really talking
to her wherever she might be,
but she was for certain with me
and without her I am not
and then spoke the truth I saw
you had
some share
of the blame--
putting a thirteen year old boy
who wanted nothing
more than to be left alone
in charge of his little brothers."

And I still love you.


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