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They walked the hill
homeward from school,
precocious children
ill at ease
at no longer
quite being children.

They did not say
what each had learned.

She did not tell
him she had seen
Buddha and Jesus
perched in a tree,
singing in unison.

Nor did he say
how at the pit
where the burnt church
had stood he heard
the silence keep
insisting it
could speak to him.

The climb was farther
than they thought.

Between them they
might have made
God one.


James Toupin is a retired government lawyer who lives in Washington, D.C. Only having begun in 2008 to try to publish the poetry he has written in private hours, he has seen his poems published in numerous print and online journals. He is also a published translator of Selected Letters of Alexis de Tocqeuville (University of California Press.)

© 2010, James Toupin

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