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January 23, 2003

Poetry by Robert Deluty


Anxious when working,
Guilty if shirking.
Fearing heightened expectations
When work is commendable,
Dreading disapproving gazes
For efforts lamentable.
And should perfection be achieved,
Comfort is painfully brief,
For a fall from grace is awaited,
Stifling hope of lasting relief.


I remember his left arm.
Leather-tough, lightly freckled,
Thick as a fireplace log.
Culminating in short, dense fingers
With near-perfectly round nails.
Most memorable, though, was the forearm,
Damaged by five blue numbers:
His concentration camp tattoo.
A daily/nightly reminder of
Evil and martyrdom,
Faith and resilience.

Name Calling

Recent birth announcements
Evoke a frightening epiphany:
In 60 years, most grandmas
Will be named Ashley and Tiffany.


goes to the market
just to hear another voice --
paper or plastic

3-month-old great-granddaughter
exchange toothless smiles

side-by-side, carpooled
eighth grade boys, ninth grade women
sit miles, years apart

Posted by dwinds1 at January 23, 2003 12:00 AM