thanksgiving crash

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burned the inside of my nose so sharp the cold that morning

sparkling on the frost the streetlight covering for the sun

peeled the quilt off my cocoon stubborn like a fool

out into the cold atop our hill the morning after stuffing

wheels made of rocks spinning round and round against the wind

freezing wrapped around my hands around the handlebars

and down we flew this hill another morning before the dawn

to deliver the news the only way you could hold it in your hands

my job, a paperboy, people might not know but soon enough they would

as i raced straight into their lights, they crashed into my bike

the sun was at my back, and in their eyes, i remember tears too

but i had to get to work, there’s papers waiting for me and mine

not just yet my son, you are going with us for now

like a rag tossed on the seat we turned the steel around

my bike i could gather later, here it would wait for me

my legs were gone, at least for a while, doctor ordered rest

until then i would be spoiled, the biggest treat of all?

riding warm with dad tossing papers out the window.

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