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POEM: Jack

Jack

I remember him
as a cute little blond kid
up at the big house
north of everywhere

the next time we met
he was a real person
with likes and dislikes
and a favorite shirt

“Jack writes some
great sentences”
his dad told me
(Jack comes from writers)

later, he explained
a medical video game
in great detail, full of
cuts and sutures

I smiled, wondering
what had happened
in the middle years
to create this boy

for dinner we had
homemade Indian food
Jack complimented his mom
on the meal

27 October 2013
Oak Street

Published in My poems Oak Street Poem-A-Day 2013 Poetry

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