Second Edit: Ordinary

[Richard]

Second Edit:

Ordinary

There are old fears like Bela Lugosi's
threatening accent and strange clothes.
The dread of sirens, head under desk-
a curse against those godless Reds.
Lonely little hands with no one to grab;
parents, locked behind barbwire fence,
mutter foreign prayers.

Then there are timeless fears: a spider
tickling your leg until it bites,
heights that nauseate worse than sour milk,
an audience dissecting you with their eyes.

There's courage too, arriving
predictably like your mother's uncle,
who smelled of garlic and could only talk
in the language of the old country.

First Edit:

Ordinary

There are old fears like Bela Lugosi's
threatening accent and strange clothes,
or the dread of sirens, head under desk-
a curse against those godless Reds.
Then there are timeless fears: a spider
tickling your leg until it bites,
heights that nauseate worse than sour milk.
There's courage too, usually arriving
at the worst time like your mother's uncle,
who smelled of garlic and could only talk
in the language of the old country.

Original:
Ordinary

There's old fears like Bela Lugosi's
threatening accent and strange clothes,
or the dread of sirens, head under desk,
a curse against those godless Reds.
Then there's timeless fears, such as a spider
tickling your leg until it bites,
heights that nauseate worse than sour milk.
Of course there's courage too, usually arriving
at the worse time like your mother's uncle,
who smelled of garlic and could only talk
in the language of the old country.