Tonight I am thinking about my brother,
how we sat at the dinner table,
he and my Mom on the far side,
my dad and I closer to the kitchen.
Everything about it seems wrong.
His left elbow bump cutting
into my mom's right elbow,
year after year of having
to to try to avoid each other.
There were only two places
at that table for a lefty
and he did not sit in either one.
We all knew it, we must have,
but no one said anything,
and never did we imagine
changing our spots.
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