Red Dolly
Lennox is a small town
beneath the flight path of planes
heading into LAX.
We lived in a small two-bedroom house
with other families like us,
poor recent immigrants
from Mexico and other Spanish
speaking parts of the western world.
Few memories of those years remain.
One night
my father was taking out the trash
as I tagged along.
From the garage
he pulled out
a small red dolly.
He asked me to stand on it.
I stood on it, holding on to the bars
as my father tilted it back.
My little heart was thrilled
I was doing something
like this with my daddy.
I wasn't fearful.
I was trusting of him,
feeling good
about myself and our world
because of such a simple thing.
Yesterday
as I was pulling out of the driveway
at our home in Hawthorne
I looked over and saw
my three year old
baby brother Tyler
standing and holding onto
the same red dolly
I once had,
looking as happy and pure
as I must have that evening
so many years ago.
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