Nostalgia by Bailey Spry by Stephen Page

Poetry Writing


(Thank you to our dear daughter, Bailey June, for sharing her poetry.)

For Jake

Red. The color of your little boots, feet on the wrong legs Poppa called it.

I run down the back steps, the ones dad painted how many times?

Poppas there, on the circular stone at the landing of those worn steps and I leap for him

He’s young with that grin, you know the one

And then he’s gone, I’ve leapt through him and I haven’t held on tight enough

He’s in the next world


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