Walking along a city street
I pass a family. The young boy,
slight of figure, wide-eyed,
wears a T-shirt saying:
Man of Steel.
He is holding his mother's hand,
looking slightly frightened by the city
with its cars and crowds.
OK, I get it, but I still wish
I could give the boys T-shirts
saying Man of Jelly
and have them be proud.
(In looking at joy this month, we also look at where it's absent or hindered — just in case you're wondering.)
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