by Karen Benke
On the walk home my son and I gather leaves.
At the kitchen table he colors them blue.
One by one, we tape them to the window
next to the pink snowflakes he and his babysitter make. Continue reading
by Karen Benke
On the walk home my son and I gather leaves.
At the kitchen table he colors them blue.
One by one, we tape them to the window
next to the pink snowflakes he and his babysitter make. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry