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Poetry | September 2011

9 and a 1/2 Months

By Lori D’Angelo

There is only this:
A boy. Fifteen steps
are not too many to climb.
But, this time, he pulls
himself up, he stumbles.
I stand behind and then I
do something far less
motherly. I put him
in his playpen. On the baby
monitor, I can hear him
scream. The dog lies
beside me. We both sit
mute for a moment,
drown out the sound.

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