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Things I Notice
By Colleen Foster
How Eggo waffles are starchy manhole covers, blueberries are indigo bellybuttons,
and--thanks to 7th grade health class descriptors--pears are irrevocably shaped like uteruses.
How the people in pharmaceutical commercials always seem to have an enviably chipper life,
playing jaunty tennis with macular degeneration and grinning in diners with their diabetes.
How some traffic lights dangle side by side in mismatched glowing greens,
as if each shade permits a different speed for your car to lurch or loll into the intersection.
How when you gave me a piggyback at the intersection of this summer and this autumn,
my Birkenstocked feet splayed to the side,
my tie-dye T-shirt a treatment souvenir,
my arms around your neck like an enthusiastically affectionate XX-pound backpack,
I was actually so happy I waved at the drivers in the patient cars,
sitting there waiting for their shades of green.
I was happy.
I was so happy I was weightless.