about
that red wagon.
the Red Flyer,
the one
i hauled newspapers
around in
for years.
up hills
in rain and snow,
in
the heat of summer
before
the sun rose.
the dog
loyally beside me.
where would i have
been without it?
is another
kid pulling it along,
or has it rusted,
no longer
a bright red, but
with broken wheels,
that no longer
go around.
i was thinking about
that red wagon,
it seems never far from
my thoughts
about that time.
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