Smoking Yaya
My great grandmother
Them a call her Yaya
Every late afternoon
She used to sit
In the rocking chair
On the veranda
Smoking pipe
Watching the street
Like a hawk
With one eye closed
The crack-crack
Of the rocking chair shut up
She would take you out
About this entry
You’re currently reading “Smoking Yaya,” an entry on Gladius Poeticus
- Gepubliceerd:
- november 2, 2013 / 9:52 am
- Categorie:
- English Dialect Poetry, English Poetry, Poëzie Algemeen
Gladius Poeticus 
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