USA

hmiller@gis.net

Out Takes

Among my photographs Bobby at  two
  holds  a bunch  of dandelions  toward me
In another at nine  his front teeth protrude
Muscles bulging at fifteen  he puffs himself up
Nineteen   beside his Harley  looking tough.
In my dreams  Bobby remains a little boy
In my dreams   I wonder why
Awake I know   try to sleep again.
Awake I always know   he’s dead
In my dreams   I am ironing little
shirts and pants

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