Sunday, May 20, 2012


The speckled notebook
covered with dust
rested on his abandoned desk.

Its dappled shield
protected the soft tissue
of doubt within the bones
of despair.

His fingers closed
over the aggie, the flecked
projectile that named
him champion of boys,
their heads bent
over a circle in the sand,
marbles the spoils
of the victor's control.

The mottled fountain pen
his father had used to write
prescriptions with the certainty
of the consummate healer mocked
his brindle indecision.

The notebook had served
his purpose. the aggie its time,
but now stippled life
defied the easy answer
the sharp crack
of marble on marble.

Opacity required a certain
black dominance--or white.

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