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I’d deliver pizzas as a boy
imagining my future
on rocket boosters 
blaring All Along the Watchtower
and I’d come upon a house 
in the evening hours of summer
when cathedral beams pour over hardwood
and I’d see some girl my age
through the screen door
knelt over in a sun dress
hair pulled back 
from a day at the beach and then some
fumbling with a couple toddlers 
in the kitchen
and I’d stand there,
imagining the chores to be done
in the field out back
before it got dark.