When we were children,
you hovered like a Little League trophy,
like the winning basket,
an on-stage comedian,
a valedictorian behind the podium,
like a Princeton diploma hanging on the wall.

They worshiped the Shrine of You
and sang your praises,
awarded you the first place ribbon –
you were tangible, visible, vocal, actual.

And how were you to know?
that there I sat in the shadow of your pedestal
intangible, invisible, quiet, metaphorical,
too small to remember was there,
an afterthought lost in the darkness
to give contrast to your glory.

And how were you to know?
When they were our parents
and we were only children.

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