Childhood

 

They took us to cemeteries, many times, always in the hot car,

And there were oak trees, hyacinths, women’s hats. 

Grandmother spoke words of fright with a Finnish accent.

We learned to sit still, 

Letting sadnesses trail from the windows. 

 

 

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Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

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