Thermometer. Trash bucket
beside the bed. Coke syrup.
Dr. appointment. Plenty of
fluids. Tylenol. Chicken noodle
soup. Saltine crackers. Sodas.
Homework sent. Days go by.
Dew on the grass. Sun in
the window. Crystal clear starry
night. Army book satchel. Written
note. Friends. A yellow bus.
By Danny P. Barbare
1 comment:
Danny P. Barbare grew up and lives in Greenville, South Carolina. These poems are about his childhood. He has been writing poetry for 28 years and has been published over 375 times. He says he writes 24 hours a day, whenever the mood strikes him. He works as a custodian at a local YMCA. Here he is alone, so he has plenty of time to think he says.
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