vazambam
new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block
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Tuesday, July 27, 2021
Old Country Vignette, 1947
The big brother, next
To the father, leaving
The village for the new
World, turning round,
His arms outstretched,
Crying out to the younger
Standing motionless
Next to the mother:
Baby,
Baby brother, why
Won’t you fit into my pocket?
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