A poem is a boy
knob-kneed and elbowed
rolling downhill all aslant
the green of grass in his hair and in his years
A poem is a boy
who draws a car driving along the deck of Noah’s Ark
and notices the moon is a smile
and every stick is a sword
every rock a treasure
every bug a new friend
and dirt is an accessory worn with glee
A poem is a boy
who bulldozes potatoes
excavates peas from a mound of casserole
and paves the table chair and floor with crumbs
A poem is a boy
who lifts up rugs to find bugs
and lifts up arms to be held
and lifts up voice to sing songs unknown to human ears
A poem is a boy
whose rhyme is the path from sandbox to water hose and back again
whose rhythm is in pounding feet on the stairs and around the kitchen
whose line is measured in Lego bricks and train tracks and Matchbox cars
whose stanza break is sleep
A poem is
a boy.
Sharing this with the gals at The MOB Society.
Sharing this with the gals at The MOB Society.
I am a poetry girl and I love this, my friend. Bot you captured the heart of a boy, through a mama’s eyes!
I am a poetry girl and I love this, my friend. Bot you captured the heart of a boy, through a mama’s eyes!
This is so sweet! I have two little boys and each line of your poem brought a smile to my face as I recollected the sweetness of our days. Boys are such a blessing!
This is so sweet! I have two little boys and each line of your poem brought a smile to my face as I recollected the sweetness of our days. Boys are such a blessing!
Love this! A mom to 3 little boys here. So sweet!
Love this! A mom to 3 little boys here. So sweet!