Jul/Aug 2005 Poetry

What I Owe

by Norton Hodges

What I Owe

Even my death is yours.

When I was a child, I gave
you my loud hand and only kept
the silent one.

In the end too,
I won't be a spoilsport or a
dog in a manger,

I'll give you
my last moment of light
before nothingness,

because it's right and proper,
because it's kind.


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