They came

from out of nowhere

this morning,

before I rose,

half alseep,

for some reason,

hazy memories

of my sixteen-year-old

or thereabouts self

swam through

my sleep-slow mind

and suddenly,

focused on his face,

I remembered

his wiry hair,

clear as a bell,

I remembered his face,

his angry, waspish

bespectacled face.

I hadn’t properl...

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