YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS by Dan Provost

She was
blind
never
to see
the crying of
a boy who
loved the
circus…
He was
dead long
before
the band
played their last note…
I felt
the tenderness
of both misfortunes
from day 1 in
1962 when I left
the womb and
entered my own
world of disability…
I see but do
not
feed the clowns
I died but never
was
buried in
the ground of
our forefathers…
See the present?
Fear the inevitable?
I am gone but never left the play.