The list of small deformities passed unrecorded In the stupor of heredity, Like our weather, Clouding over the tiny barn Where he said he saw Judas hanging Behind the old tractor But it was the Swensby boy in a blue and yellow plaid shirt And no note.
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We reached the car, and I held the door open for him, but he didn't climb in right away. He stood there rocking on his crutch, gazing off at the sky and the fields and the fall trees starting to go the color of sherbet