The Family Gathering

Four kids are here. The oldest one is three. Their parents, also here,
Are variously sleeping or examining their phones, which means that
The rampaging mob, whining, crying, thirsty, dropping toys
And drink cups everywhere, are passed to us for supervision. Such
A lovely holiday! It seems we're still at work.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 70 times
Written on 2025-05-25 at 21:46

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