Autistic Kid at the Gym
Father and son working with a trainer
but the father does all the talking,
the kid sitting on the next machine
twisting his hands into strange gyrations,
a generalhy ignored gnat on the edge of a bowl.
Father and trainer move across the gym,
kid follows, hands behind his back,
like a prisoner in tow. You may remember
a time you felt this way, lagging four steps
behind, wanting to be part of things.
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Those last lines sell the poem and it’s crushing reality. I really feel for that kid..