I Would Think
By The Look On Her Face
We Are Approaching
The Halfway Point
Of This Long, Push-Chair-Pushing Hill.
My Young Mother, Laden
With Bags That Hang From
My Tubular Bars,
Aims Blown Kisses
To My Small Pink Face.
My Elder Sister
(By One Year) , Walks,
Clutching The Handle;
Adding Weight
To The Already
Massive Task.
At The Top, My Mother Stops
And Sucks In The Rising Fumes
Of A Now Distant City…
And It Is Here, Right Here,
I Vow To Love Her
Until Death…
And I Did!