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A child sat quietly in an overstuffed arm chair inquisite with the toys the old lady offered playing with them gently and pretending she was one of the adults at the table playing cards. A child sits stoicly on a cement step watching for headlights and wondering if she should see her parents coming what should she do? But after awhile she tires of waiting and decides to go back to bed. and so it was just another weekend in the summer of 1964 when I could go whenever I wanted as long as I didnt do anything while I was there
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2012-12-29 13:26:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
SUCH a beautiful poem. So true. I was taken by your poetic view of just what childred do when navigating the world of adults. Thank you for the well crafted work. Joe
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