Poetry My Craft

He Sees the Love in Her Warm Smiling Face

Riding behind in a long red wagon,
He sits, he smiles, plays with the air, he watches
Her ponytail bobbing in rhythm as she pulls
The red wagon up the road in the pines

 

They stop at a library, he toddles up
Children’s books about bunnies and ducks
He giggles and claps at the animal
Pictures while struggling to understand her;
He sees the love in her warm smiling face

 

She’s older now, she lies in a coma
Tubes and wires come out of her still body
In anguish he cries; does she feels pain?
He leans in to whisper the memory
Riding behind in a long red wagon
He sees the love in her warm smiling face.

 

 

 

 

© 2018, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.

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