©Poems of R.F.Mueller- Other Times, Other Thoughts
MEMORY
R.F. Mueller
Down the years I see your little pushface
though you must be scraggly-toothed now, wrinkled, old.
The naked sun, the towering fields, the trellis leading down,
the fuss made by mothers over visiting tikes
I still remember.
I was to take you out to play, and
hiding all the hate I did.
And behind the green wall I made you cry.
O I really got you good, and I was glad
when I was only four and you were maybe three.
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Surely this is one of my earliest memories of independent action.
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