Category: Poetry
Once on the steps of a house
There stood a boy right in front of the door,
And he couldn't reach his finger to the bell,
Mo way — and he was obviously perplexed.
I came up to him and tell him:
— Well, boy, no good? Not tall enough?..
All right, I will ring the bell for you.
Once or twice? It is easy for me.
— Mo, five times! —
I rang the bell five times.
And the boy says:
— Well, mister, let's go!
Let's run! No matter you are brave, but the owner
Will give us a thrashing — we'll be trouble!
December 1942