Thalassemia

Let’s never think about it

or cross that river

when we run from it

just because it’s a good place to hide

in the mist drifting sideways.

For years now, we’ve evacuated

for all we were worth.

It’s like we’ve been struggling

outside the frame of our own picture.

It’s exhausting to say the least

& a fat lot of good it’s done us.

A crow in the street

has had more to say about it all

than we ever did.

Still, it’s no cross to bear;

the underside of all things

held us fast, thank god, like bombs on a mission.

We were clowns then, but the championship

was still within our grasp.

Sometimes they do come back

like pandas, she promised,

the bamboo so sweet & green.
Hello, again.

It’s so quiet tonight;

you don’t even realize you’re been waiting
all these years to hear them say it.