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Spadina Literary Review  —  edition 38 page 12


It takes a village

by James Thurgood

out the front window
I watch a young father or uncle
run in and out around parked cars
across the street and back
playing with a kid
teaching him to run in and out
around parked cars

the young man hops in a car and takes off
and the boy runs in and out around parked cars
with another kid

then they run up the sidewalk my way
— I’ll yell out the window

but they turn back too soon
and I don’t want to walk down the street
and make a fuss

but now if the kid gets hit, it’ll be my fault
but if he doesn’t, I’ll stay worried
— even if I warned him and he ignored me
then got hit, I’d feel terrible

think I’ll sit at the back window
and watch the clouds roll along
over the apple tree