Sunday, March 6, 2016


Yesterday's children petted me like a soft kitten
as we wrote poetry in an inner city school.
I wear the castoff cashmere sweaters of the affluent
because I am allergic to sheep wool, but not goat.
Their petting me, and the tactile feedback,
reminds me of the differences
between their world, and mine.


There's a haiku embedded in there, somewhere.

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