. . . Welcome! . . . feel free to make comments and browse . . .

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Butler Woman

She would come every day
to visit her son, thirty-seven now,
who had been sent
to the County Prison
for murder.

I am only doing
what a mother does, she said.

At night she would dream
she had seen him
coming home from school
with books under his arm,
smiling, waving to her
standing at her kitchen window,
waiting.


from: The Butler Pennsylvania Poems 

No comments: