The Innisfree Poetry Journal
www.innisfreepoetry.org
by Jennifer Pruden Colligan
NOTICE At four, one daughter was twins with her best friend. They stood in the school hallway in matching sweatshirts with three woolly sheep marching across their bony chests. Four wrists poked out of red sleeves—two dark and two pale. At four, another daughter says, wouldn't it be funny if a family had a black dad and a white mom. That would be weird, she says, in the restaurant where all the families have segregated themselves. I say, my hair is brown and yours is blond. Is that weird? That’s different, she claims. You have more skin than hair.
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