I used to do a little bit of educational assistant substitute work periodically, and wrote this on a break after meeting a very sweet, little Syrian boy with a rosary around his neck and soccer ball in hand, haunting brown eyes looking straight into mine.
"[...]The very boy/The very boy/The very not-yet man,/But more man than Canadian Comfort/Because of Syrian eyes/That have seen,/Have beamed holes of fury and confusion/--Young, full boy-man anger;/Young, precious, boy-man grief--/Through the abyss of rushing[...]"
xx,
Kay
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