Finally Grateful for Being Locked Outside

a poem about something some writers have in common

One Hundred Days of Gratitude. Forty-eight.

Nine or ten or maybe a baby thirteen a brother breaks glass a sister starts to scream just couldn’t bear the burden of being locked outside only able to look in front door glass a little too thin so knuckles still covered in a constellation of little sliver scars.

Always coming from So Far. Always the New Kid new school, old jokes and hopes new tricks, traps, cools and fools

never quite a part of maybe the start of the chameleon little brother now older and undercover now sitting at the bar alone. Less hair. Still no home.

Stuck Outside Again.

This time taking the time to see how much easier it is to look at things from far away see the bigger picture come up with the words to pray.