They both ran after joy
Masters in running,
they hold their arms out for joy
Joy to fall into them
Joy to break onto their summer barren shoulders
and Joy to brush by the tails of their dresses and pants
His Joy sits under the tables
curled chewing on a duckie
Her joy lies else
in the droppings the paint leaves
trail over messy paper
But Joy totters along behind them
walking on two, rabbit pink feet
and joy makes his own sound
ma-ma, ba-ba, me-me. That was joy.
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