Inward Thoughts of an Old Husband

Gifts of clothing and toys, just because
we really need to give.

Trying to keep up with a fast crawling baby.
(a niece actually, for we can never
have one)

The end of the biannual clothing rearranging/swapping/packing/organizing
(things that she is learning
to offer to the neighborhood
sense of community) .

McDonald’s Caramel Frappé
(she is getting fatter
everyday but how can
she help it?)

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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