Get Your Premium Membership


Poet's Notes

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Gene Bourne.

Meter - Mainly Dactylic Tetrameter, but with some variation to give a "Free Verse" feel.

Rhyme - A mixed,  transitional rhyme that crosses over from stanza to stanza to give it a "Free Verse" feel.



On a street long ago with a sidewalk and curb, Back when houses seemed huge, In a child's wide-eyed way. On a screen porch, played quietly, As not to disturb. For my mother was having A headache that day. All the front yards were deep, Nestled back from the street. With a walkway of concrete And large, shady trees. Every morning, I waited to yell, then retreat, When the giant man walked by, never noticing me. All I knew was the little They let children know, That he lived with his mother, On the far side of town. He was big and slumped over And walked very slow. Not a person remembered Him utter a word. As he passed by our walkway, I readied my shout, Then remembered, "Play quietly", Mom's head hurt today. I recall as he stopped, Slowly turning about, Then he started his blunderous Footsteps my way. I was puzzled and frozen, A chill up my spine. When he reached our front steps, I could hear mother say, "Hello Billy", then ask if his mom was okay, As she latched the screen door, Nudging me back away. Mother always recounted What happened that day. And she spoke of the good heart That lay deep within. It was only that once I missed shouting his way. Billy worried, not hearing His four year old friend. Gene Bourne 08-17-14

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 11/29/2014 7:53:00 AM
This is a side I have not seen....prose, and the discourse had me enthralled. My thoughts were invaded by Boo Radley in "To Kill A Mockingbird" ..... often times on site things we may initially perceive with fear are instead a person showing concern, but may have a large or unusual physical appearance. Very good Gene. The rolled and read almost meter-like but in prose. Thanks, but also, hoping and praying for you, that you are well. Happy Thanksgiving. Thomas
Login to Reply
Date: 10/28/2014 11:10:00 AM
love how you penned this gene beautifully painted piece
Login to Reply
Date: 8/31/2014 11:17:00 AM
Gene- so much imagery, description -you brought your reader there watching the memory all unfold-lovely write. :-) Christine
Login to Reply
Bourne Avatar
Gene Bourne
Date: 8/31/2014 2:49:00 PM
Thanks, Christine...This poem is only one of very few poems I've written that is biographical and actually happened... I would yell once. When Billy didn't react, I would yell one more time, "Hey, Mister Man". The fact he never reacted, I thought he never heard me. I found out he indeed did and my "yell" was part of his morning routine....Your friend, Gene.
Date: 8/23/2014 7:55:00 PM
Love this... You have captured a childhood memory...the kind that sear themselves upon the very depth of our soul...never to be forgotten. Truly Wonderful writing, Gene. bfn Your friend in poetry, Elaine
Login to Reply
Bourne Avatar
Gene Bourne
Date: 8/24/2014 12:59:00 AM
Thank you very much, Elaine. This is biographical and I was the four year old. I think I always yelled, "Hey, Mr man". Those and other special moments do sear themselves forever in our minds. Billy was "shell shocked", as they called it, from WW2. This had to have been 1959. Again, your comments are much apprecated...Your friend...Gene