A Little Boy Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Even though I'm grown and on the edge of my life,
I still think of a little boy I baby sat when I
was eleven.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, a tiny little two-year
old neighbor.
A birthday party was going on at a relative's
house, children were swimming, playing and having
fun.
Adults were around, supposedly supervising them.
Bar-b-queing, talking with one another, enjoying
the afternoon.
Suddenly, amidst the jovial environment a shout
arose, confusion ensued, someone jumped in the
pool and pulled the little boy out to safety, it
was thought.
Tears, screams, calling the fire department,
children and adults crying - scared.
Paramedics performing CPR, then transporting his
little lifeless body to the hospital.
There a black curtain fell upon family and friends
as doctors announced they had pronounced him dead.
Waiting, sobbing, anger, blaming one another - none
of it mattered anymore - little one was gone - gone
to heaven.
Life went on, parents divorced, families were torn
apart, a celebration of birth became an anniversary
of death.