Alfredo’s Sun
We had talked before
The custodian and I
There was a son in the military
Something about an injury
How was he doing?
“He started in nursing and realized he’d rather be a doctor.”
“Did he have an injury?” I asked.
Alfredo motions to his legs, touching just below his hips.
“He has prosthetic, both legs…
Baghdad, he was in Baghdad.”
We can heal together
Under Alfredo’s Sun
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This is a very touching poem. You bring our feelings to the surface with the way you reveal Alfredo’s Sun. It is beautiful.