poetry by j matthew waters

when I come around

this is not personal
at some point
I’ll have to explain to my children
how you cannot choose your family

of course they’ll already know this
when the time comes
[or so they will say]
most of us carrying on
as if nothing had ever happened

they come & go & return as they please
mostly triumphantly
but every once in a while
like a battered boomerang

there are these marks on my skin
I’ve accumulated over the years
each one a story unto themselves
I seldom grow weary of telling

at some point they’ll apologize
for no good reason
and I’ll remind them how most things
usually come around

august two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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