I remember running the dusty plains
Nestled in the mountain near my town
The memories flow inundating my thoughts
When I think of you quaint Barranquitas
They were years of childish playing and fun
We chased sugar cane laden trucks struggling to climb
Pulling the stalks from the back of the truck
And throwing them to the side of the road
As darkness fell, we played hide and seek
We played until we were called to come and eat
Barranquitas was my boyhood playground—
A place to run, fly kites, and rivers swim.
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Author:
rrodriguez (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2016 10:12
- Comment from author about the poem: Remembering where I grew up as a child in Barranquitas, P.R.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 41
Offline)
Comments4
its funny the things we remember
oh simple days where have you gone?
much enjoyed this piece you pen.
excellent write! ww
THANKS ROBERTO ~ As usual an elegant poem (like the italic script !) full of sagacity and reminiscences ! My childhood memories (raised in Liverpool ~ no mean City) are always the most vivid ! Barefoot occasionally on the damp dirty City Streets ! We had no sugar cane ~ but we flew (home made) kites and swam in the rat infested canal ! Thanks for the memory HASTA LA VISTA ~ BRIAN
Thank you all! This is really nice!
I was born in Rio Piedras, P.R.
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