After our oldest son comes down serious On the hard-won aisle and receives his diploma, His flat mortarboard capped on his head Its long green tassel hanging down to his nose, Our struggling 7-year-old comes up grinning Into the crowded study of our home with a manual, His large iguana sitting perched on his head Its green-threaded tail hanging down to his chin— Look, Dad, I'm a graduate.
—Daniel Wilcox
Previously published in Abandoned Towers, September 2008.
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