Jill Koren
Photo: Artiii
I dream that I
Am helping you
Up the concrete
Steps, cracked and patched
And cracking, of
My parents’ house.
Your legs resist
Each elevation
Until at last, the
Final step, your
Knees stiffen and
Like the baby
Who doesn’t want
To be picked up,
You arch your chest
And push against
The lift, against
My help, and fall
To the ground where
You lie, unmoving
In the dirt.
In my mind
You lie there still.
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