Poetry, Not In Motion Poem by Francie Lynch
Poetry, Not In Motion
She's posted a picture of her son,
Sitting on a swing I assume is moving.
I wonder how this Spring day moves him.
Does he enjoy the warmth stretching
From his head to his toes,
As he arcs to and fro.
I'll never know.
It's another picture of her son.
Does he read, write, paint or build.
I would like to see his photography.
Perhaps a picture of his mother
Sitting on a swing;
But it's him, sitting there, still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 9:26:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
