Joined at the Head

by Daniel Thomas Moran

WE wonder, Where
do they come from,
these children who are
joined at the head?
Eyes fixed
upon their ceilings.
A wide part in their hair.
Unable to see what
is holding them back,
they struggle
to make the first move.
They are too young
to know, it’s not what
any mother could intend,
aiming high for
grace and for speed,
for long lives filled
with moments of solitude
to reflect upon miracles.


Who could imagine
that things could go
so very wrong?
Yet, we look on
in troubled amazement.
We lie awake
alone at night, or not.
And if we can be wise
and recognize ourselves
even when others are
uncertain who is who,
Remain free of
all constant reminders.
We must say to us,
even alone
on a crowded street,
that all entanglements
considered, it could
have been worse.

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