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The Orphan

ISSUE:  Summer 2001
After awhile, he gave
up waiting, rose
from beside his parents’
grave, looked once
more at the town unfolding
down below like
somebody’s dream
of a perfect place
to rise above,
or leave behind,
church bells chiming

the hour of darkness,
close to home,
but home long gone.

Too long
was long enough
and longer still.

He bent to kiss the flat
brass plate that marked
his parents’ grave,
said goodbye
to no one listening,
and walked away.


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