My Very First Love Poem by Ian Bowen

My Very First Love



I would think
by the look on her face
we are approaching
the halfway point
of this long, push-chair-pushing hill.
My young mother, laden
with bags that hang from
my tubular bars,
aims blown kisses
to my small pink face.
My elder sister
(by one year) , walks,
clutching the handle;
adding weight
to the already
massive task.

At the top, my mother stops
and sucks in the rising fumes
of a now distant city...

and it is here, right here,
I vow to love her
until death...

and I did!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Adam Reed 08 February 2010

Expertly done man. you are a true poet. this is the kind of poetry i love to read. =)

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