He taught me to fold,
empty packets of crisps,
into squares. Then triangles.
The edges sharp,
the taste of vinegar,
in our mouths.
A silent challenge,
in a grin.
Our fingers racing,
creating seams,
conjuring lines
drawing shapes,
from something so simple
as an empty crisp packet.
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Author:
Thedarkside (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 5th, 2018 12:56
- Category: Family
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: marlenawood, smallest_stars
Offline)
Comments3
Good writing xx
Thank you 🙂
WELCOME MOL Thanks for your first Poem ~ Elegant and replete with rhythm ! I love the message "We can all learn a lot from our parents ~ if we take time to chat with them !" I live in my own Flat but I'm always running home to ask advice from my Parents (and for Sunday Lunch of course !) Thanks for caring & sharing ~ Yours BRIAN ~ Please check my poems ~ Thanks B.
Thank you very much! I certaintly will
To what Briansodes said, there is a beautiful rhythm to your poem which makes is so delightful to read .
Great job!
Thank you so much!
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