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POEM: The World’s Saddest Lightsaber

The World’s Saddest Lightsaber

In the photo I’m five or six,
holding an inflatable lightsaber
that looks like a bizarre 70s sex toy.
I’m in my footie pajamas, like all good Jedi.
Head lowered, seated on the end of my bed,
I look like I just found out Darth Vader is my dad.
Fast-forward four decades: My cousin asks if I’m OK.
Yeah, I’m mostly OK. Just waiting for the dust to settle,
even though I’m fairly sure the dust never settles —
it just keeps swirling from one place to the next.
That’s OK. I don’t have a lightsaber, but I have some light.
And I hear they make adult footie pajamas, so there’s still hope.

/ / /

5 April 2022
Latham, NY

(NaPoWriMo Day 5)

Published in Movies My poems NaPoWriMo2022 Poetry


    • Jason Crane Jason Crane


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