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Crossing the Barrier

as Amanda grew up

things become less and less simple

 

like looking for an exact shade

to describe mountain, sunrise,

surprise, a doe’s wet nose

 

or the right word to choose

to precede, or follow, or modify:

loving, leaving, longing, lonely,

 

…to cross the barrier: past

comprehension’s limits

 

so that after she packed her bag,

walked out on him, abusive, umbilical,

his cheek reddening into

remorse, recrimination, disbelief

 

she would be able to

describe tomorrow (and  in all

the years to come)

—to pinpoint

the exact shade of release, freedom,

reluctance, regret,

(even to herself)

 

—a tiny pain that once was

so enormous

(as complex as growing up)

when every pencil she reached for

 

was not quite as simple

as the shade she was feeling

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© Johnmichael Simon

2009

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