I will miss
The sweet smell of puppy paw that
Permeates my glove
The diagnostic calluses that mar my palm
My toe
My heel
The wicked sing of blade on blade that never fails to
Speed my heart
The patient layering of wire into groove
(However I complain)
The late nights, soaked and spent and
Faced with early dawn
The verbal sparring
Pitting Ivy eloquence against a stubborn ESL
And losing, every time
The casual camaraderie of odd lots
Misfits
Kindred souls
I struggle to accept that
All things pass away
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
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