May 12, 2020


by Steve J. Burkett (author's profile)
This post is in reply to comments on:  Poetry thumbnail
(Feb. 26, 2020)




On sunny days
I like to go
on long drives
to the outskirts
of the city streets
to the playgrounds
of my childhood
where the old factories
the junk yards
and my grade school
once stood
stopping at a red light
in the middle of summer
a police car
pulls up beside me
a kid in the backseat
smiles at me
that kid was me
somewhere in my memories
Steve Burkett

My fingertips press hard
against the palm
of my hand
it hurts
not unlike a knife
to the heart
to the bones
I feel it
all I want to do
is scream
and run away
but my pride
and ego
will not let me
Steve Burkett


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