little park around the block from my house
Justin Hyde

cute kid,
a woman on the bench
calls to me
as i wipe wind-tears
pooling at the bottom
of his eyes.

diana is loose at the edges,
but i’ve always liked
a little extra
within reason.

her daughter
climbs the jungle gym
as i bounce my son
on my knee.

we turn in on each other
share easy laughs
about these creatures
who’ve upended our lives
like atomic bombs
we don’t regret.

she keeps tucking
small strands of blond hair
behind her ears,

of her right foot
brushes softly
against my ankle.

a man gets
to a certain

he can read the heat
from a woman
like an oil-dipstick.

or all the unnamed

welling up
inside him.

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