One of Fifty-Eight Thousand

From Jeff Munroe

Along about 1970, when I was in junior high,

A new friend invited me to hang out at his house.

Another invitation followed, to go downtown

for the Memorial Day Parade.

Who doesn’t love a parade?

In the car I noticed his parents looked older than my parents.

The mom wore a scarf over her dull gray hair

and the dad a dirty windbreaker over a sweatshirt.

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