I touched bone each time I held you,
You were always sick or broken, a man
I didn’t want your empty bottles
when everyone else had gone. We drove
You always won at Scrabble. The first
we had more roots than you knew,
I would walk inside this house as my own.
The Opposite of Magic
Stella Gives Up
She will remember how each tendon
Donny, on his Seventeenth Birthday
Spider-cracked windshield, dented
Copyright 2008, Sara Tracey
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