--by Shoshy Ciment
First it was you
clubbing the open air with your fists
clubbing the open air with your fists
challenging the earth
of our tiny backyard lawn
of our tiny backyard lawn
to fight back like a man
Behind our screen door
I saw you kick your limbs
in figure-eights and karate chops
crow like Peter Pan
to no one in particular until
I dragged you, lovingly
back to me
1,895 dinners later
after karate lessons, piano recitals
broken ankles and
broken hearts
your grip on our browning lawn
gradually lessened to
a playful squeeze and then
a tender caress until
it was you
slamming the door as
you ran to his car
A sequined purse, rosy cheeks
slender limbs that hadn’t
punched in years
Through the screen I saw
your small hand in his
as the car started with
a sputter and a hum
and you moved
slowly and certainly
away from me
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