Arlington, Massachusetts with Bob Bradley

Nineteen sixty three.  In Bob Bradley's yard.

With paints he's explaining the color wheel.

I'm explaining how bees don't work that hard.

I'm giving a little professor spiel.


Bob is delicately restoring art,

Becky's in the sandbox with dirty knees,

Carroll's on the steps, combing in her part,

I'm in the grass, trying to trap two bees.


Suppose I could go back for just one day.

What would I say to the eight-year old me?

Would I say that Bob and Billy are gay?

Explain what I think it means to be free?


Respecting the young me would be my job.

I'd stand by my easel.  I would be Bob.








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