Pizzini and Broremann
Pizzini and Broremann
He used to carry a tiny notebook fitted for his pocket
writing down what he saw on his daily walks in the woods
and also writing rare words in newspapers when sat
in the café by the lake.
Leaves on trees, green grass fledglings trying to fly
many had success others drowned in tiny rainwater pools
life has the habit of crushing us; when we do our best
to be loyal to family and friends.
He once had a sister, generous and kind, who called him
Broremann (little man) because he was a serious child
living in a harsh world not made for kindness, when he
complained, gave him a hug, and told him to shut up.
She had three boys growing up but of poor health
and there was not enough time to pass it on to them
the importance of kindness; motherless they had
to become men in a world that lacked love.
On a page in his notebook, Broremann wrote down
her name put her name next to his heart
reminds him of sisterly love and loyalty that even
mad-men in Sicilia know so well.
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.
