IN THE HEYDAYS OF HIS EYES
(taut jeans dancing)

An Anthology of Poetry about Being Young and Growing Up
 
 
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I REACH OUT TO HIM

Hannah See

You see, my brother is autistic, Different from the rest. He has tunnel vision too, Like seeing through two small tubes. He looks at life in ways that I will never see. He has learned to live simply, For he knows of no life without his disabilities. He loves giving gifts to others And talking about his family. He thinks of games that both of us can play. He loves sleep-overs And dancing in the rain. He likes listening to storms on the TV. And skating with his boots at the ice rink. He is lying next to me in his sleeping bag. I watch his eyes open slowly, Awakening from our sleep-over. He climbs out of bed And quietly heads for the door. Returning, with a flashlight in one hand, He sits down beside me. Not yet knowing that I am awake, And not wanting to leave my side, He has brought a toy with him to pass away the time. Slowly, I reach out to him And gently take his hand.

 
 
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