Slices of My Writing Life



Latest poem – 07.23.2014:

(not) too close


he’d seen the child playing before,

by the train tracks, not too close.

he’d found the toy in his yard, again;

picked it up, then dropped it.


hidden in the woods he watched

the child searching, wild eyed.

should not have left the toy

in his yard so many times before.


he spied the child from afar;

the toy on the train tracks, too close.

the child inched closer, train whistle

blowing in the distance, too near.


he’d felt the anticipation, the rush.

the child reached out, hesitated,

the toy in his sights, train whistle

blowing closer, so much closer


he’d seen the train, passing, the rush.

the child, no where, gone, swish.

the skirt twirled as she scooped

the child into her arms, safety.


he’d watched the toy, destroyed.

the train whistle blowing, too far.

Never again to litter his yard,

the child playing, by the tracks.


-Andrea Hunter, 07.23.2014


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