Popcicle Poem
Poetry Archive/ Home/ Poetry Links
My son drips popsicles about the house
By Wayne Jackson 1950-1989
My son drips popsicles about the house
and offers me a bite
which I take
tasting the memories
of May greened apples
and cotton candied fairs
and snow creamed Decembers
that leave with my swallowing
I wish for another taste
But he is elsewhere dripping.
Copyright © 1997 by Donald Wayne Jackson, All rights reserved
Search Artvilla