the little boy
with a backpack
bigger than he is
stands in line
behind the red rope
his tears follow me
through the exit door
to the car parked
in the no parking zone,
on my own cheeks
I taste them
December 30, 2015 by Rosemerry
the little boy
with a backpack
bigger than he is
stands in line
behind the red rope
his tears follow me
through the exit door
to the car parked
in the no parking zone,
on my own cheeks
I taste them
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged airport, goodbye, poem | 2 Comments
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That second stanza, yeah. The disembodied boy, a powerful image to raise the emotional stakes of the poem.