our names scratched atop
lengthwise and cross wise,
several years apart in age,
a shared history of school lunches, sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, handmade in the kitchen at the farm
generations
of brothers and sisters,
since passed through many schools.
Lunch from noisy cafeterias, glossy vending machines,
from colourful lunch bags, insulated lunch kits
or just plain brown paper bags.
memories of my school days
in this old, dented green and white lunch pail
filled with bobbins, thread and sewing supplies,
a reminder of how my big brother and I
shared this dented experiences
from an early age ~
later on in life in a very unexpected way ~
epilepsy in adult life,
symptoms, medications, and life’s limitations.
Were the names scratched on that same lunch pail
an innocent prescient of what was later to be?
“If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain
will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.”
~ William Shakespeare
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