The Trail

The Trail

There was a sticky train

of sweet apple sauce,

starting in the kitchen

and making craters down the hallway;

not so clean,

this getaway.

Smeared under the door

as it was opened

and again closed.

Trailed across the newly polished

hardwood floor.

The fruit ended at his bed,

a dirty spoon in his hand still.

And I wiped off his face,

and I kissed his forehead.

“goodnight.”

Watching him smile

even as he slept. 

Reviews

[Robin]

precious poetry

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

if I could~ I would embrace this poem and forever wear it in a locket against my heart so as to remember always what is precious and truly meaningful in this world~
Abigale~ this is beautiful~