I Saw Papaw Reading Kierkegaard While Others Gathered Eggs
Some men have seen 1,000 faces in
exactly the same way, which is to say,
inexactly. One saw your face today.
Welcome to his world of repetition.
You’re another find for his daily grind,
a pre-teen desire foraging in
the brush for that magic egg he might find.
Repetition must be poorly defined . . .
Reminiscent of those other children,
I lost the hunt at the age of seven.
Humbled, I wanted just one egg, aged ten.
Now, I want to see your face, 1,000
different ways . . . a repetition . . . and
repetition must be poorly defined.