Friday, February 25, 2011


he was a grown, man-boy.
they called him, "a retard".
but he had more heart,
than any of them.
he picked her flowers from his mother's yard.
she worked in a dust-bowl, honky-tonk dive.
she was a dime-a-dance girl.
sometimes she took men home.
he wore an ill-fitting suit when he visited her.
she took him by the hand.
he gave her the money and the flowers.
they commenced the dance.
he stepped on her feet.
she did not care.
she looked into his vacant eyes.
there was love in there.
she saw it.
a tear dropped to her cheek.
he told her not to cry.
he smiled.
she smiled.
no-one had ever given her flowers.
what she had received from him was pure.
he smiled broadly.
it was a life-affirming dance.

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