Page 35

 
Enough 
Instead of putting cotton in my ears 
to pretend I was deaf, 
instead of closing my eyes and wearing sunglasses 
to pretend I was blind, 
I'd pretend I could walk 
like everybody else, like my brother, 
my neighbors, kids at school. 
I'd pretend for days, for years, 
that I walked like everybody else. 
Someone would always correct me- 
can he hobble over here and try this on?- 
but I was persistent, insisting on 
seeing myself as a regular kid, 
standing out for my wit, my charm, 
my intelligence, not my walk. 
I still pretend-I think of my walking 
as walking, not something 
beautiful or unique. 
Like a poem, it is enough 
like all the rest to be recognized, 
but different enough to move me 
through the world. 
35