Sunday, April 14, 2013

Stream of consciousness poem -- part XVIII


October 17 – Afternoon

I know
We drove home
To my home
Anyway
And I know
We talked
On the way home
But about what, I
Don’t know

A quick stop
At my house
For my sister
Before she drives home
Alone
And I worry and wonder
How she will do
During her drive of
Six hours

My little boy
Is so happy
He can’t even speak
When he sees me
He just runs up
Grabs me
And holds me
As if he will never
Let go

No comments:

Post a Comment