Again poem by David Michael Jackson


The ends of his fingers
stroke the keys as he
tries again.
Oh to dance again,
to run again,
to simply
flow down the
stairs
again,
oh to play second base again,
he thinks.
Millions of dead planets revolve
around millions of stars, and he
want’s so much to matter.
In leau of that he’d
settle for
second base
again.

***


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