• Vol. 05
  • Chapter
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You see them in the park: new mothers
new fathers, their eyelids swollen from lack
of sleep which has become a commodity precious
as time / the way they move is cautious
(though they are trying not to appear this way)
one hand on the stroller the other pushing back
a loose strand of hair, reaching for the cup of coffee
they carry as a talisman, a scrap of reassurance
things are not so different / my own children
grown enough they are in school, the eldest already reaching
toward adulthood / I see these new mothers, new fathers
and I want to say -
but I remember the old woman who stopped me
on Ives Street, August sun bright, my two year old
eager to escape her goodwill, my own will worn so thin
no skin between myself and the child
'Enjoy it' she said and I thought -
you don’t remember