for Duane

What ever happened to the boy in school

With pop bottle lens

Who couldn’t play like other boys at recess

Who didn’t stand and fight

Or wrestle his tormentors; I was a tormentor

I didn’t know at the time

I was, but I was gifted at making cutting remarks

Disguised as humor to make

Classmates laugh at someone other than me

Decades later, I’m ashamed

Wonder what became of Duane, is he still alive, does he

Still flinch and recoil

When he hears my name or sees someone

Who’s shadowy gait is mine

9-26-20