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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
© Johnmichael Simon
2009
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