Too late and right on time
By Lee-Anne Ford
In a time and place both near and far,
A girl grew up in her own bright way.
They called her smart, well-read, terrific—
Charmed by the cute things she would say.
Unknowingly autistic.
In second grade, she had a friend,
Dear Sylvie, always near.
A year behind, repeating class,
Then suddenly—she disappeared.
Unknowingly autistic.
“Subnormal,” they said. “Special school.”
So Sylvie went away.
Two girls who laughed at hidden things—
But only one got to stay.
Unknowingly autistic.
Imagine, then, if they had known,
If supports had lit the way—
Two girls giggling at the world,
In their own autistic play.
Knowingly autistic.
Two friends for life, side by side,
Safe, understood, together.
Instead, the years just faded her,
A friendship lost forever.
Unknowingly autistic.
But in some world, some place beyond,
Where time bends, twists, and sways,
Maybe they’re still swimming, laughing—
In their own autistic way.
Knowingly autistic.
Singing, biking, learning, growing,
Side by side, each day.
Instead, they split—one “subnormal,” one “smart”—
The 1970s way.
Unknowingly autistic.
And now I stand, reborn at last,
Autistic since ‘72.
It took fifty years to know myself—
To see the truth in view.
Knowingly autistic.
But grief, too, for what was lost—
For the path that might have been.
Two girls who should have had forever,
But lived in different skins.
Knowingly autistic.
Want the whole Anthology? It’s here.
The Auld Skald's Fudgel 