Henry
The Wildcats was the mascot,
The elementary school just a couple of blocks away
I would walk to school hand in hand with my mother,
Waving goodbye as I disappeared through the gates.
The playground was huge,
Blacktop for miles and miles,
The swing set was my favorite,
Named it Henry, I would
Talk to Henry in my head,
He was always interested in what I had to say,
Whatever classroom tidbit I had to offer.
If someone cut their hand with a scissor,
Or if that kid made that teacher go red in the face again.
Henry would sit there, willingly,
As I tried to touch the sky with my tip-toes.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
