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Sunday, April 10, 2011

Hey Mister

Hey mister!
Hey mister!

The little girl calls in her
little-girl voice.

Hey mister! Up here!
She calls again, still
little but clearly showing
a growing impatience.

Her pig tails poke
over the sill. My eyes meet
chocolate-milk saucers –
filled to brimming
– and her questions spill
down on me.

I leave my answers there
to fly to her. They were
not meant for the dogs,
or for the dumpsters lining
this brick-shouldered alley,
or for me to hold.
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