I KNOW THAT I’VE BEEN posting a lot of poetry lately, but I’ve been writing a good amount for an English class and can’t help but enjoy it so very much. Also, I’m sure we can all agree that opening up a fresh post in Blogger is tenfold more comforting than creating a cold, depressing, and oft times sinister Word document. Am I right?
Number 19
The minivan outpours,
Mom, Dad, three, four, five, six, seven
A catholic cluster of curls and frowns
Big as the little house
Little as a house for two.
This house loves,
Your scents, your screams, your Legos
Watermelons and overflowing closets
Drying the grass, plugging the toilet
Squishing into the breakfast nook.
With rooms filled,
Boys with boys, girls and toys deluge
Makeshift space and attic dwelling
Where to grow? Where to play?
Nineteen is brimming.
The choice was none,
Boxes filled and packed bags escaped
Goodbye to the family 19 raised
A catholic cluster of curls and frowns
Outpouring elsewhere.
How I miss it all.
approximatelyes.com 