In a crowd at a fair

somewhere behind us,

we called him “fawn,”

tiny and lost

in the chaos

of voices,

colorful hats

and um pah pah


At the age of six

surprising then to hear him

suddenly laugh

from the corner

of a living room

crowded within-laws,


moms and aunts,

his skinny arms and legs


at their bickering


His loud cackling laugh

cuts the chatter,

turns their heads

to see

what’s so damn funny



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