Walking Home

Grass in Sunrise
Warm it was, your mother’s hand.
She waited at the school bus stand.
You won’t believe how young she was
When dreams caressed your cheek unplanned.

Linked to dVerse Poetry Forms. I am hosting at dVerse with the ruba’i or rubaiyat form.

Coming Rain

Author: Frank Hubeny

I enjoy walking, poetry and short prose as well as taking pictures with my phone.

59 thoughts on “Walking Home”

  1. Ah, a rubai (a 4 line stanza of AABA).
    Not a rbuaiyat, but ….
    I don’t get the last line “unplanned” seems forced. The poem could have almost ended with cheek and been perfect, but to make it a rubai …
    and can’t imagine waiting for a school bus there. Hope you are enjoying your last days in Florida

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Like this Frank. I see you held to an 8-syllable line here on this one. I prefer the 8 pver the 10. You really got me inspired by this rubaiyat thing, especially posting the Frost poem. I ended up writing and posting two – one dark, one light. Both of mine follow Frost’s 8-syllable line format.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is truly lovely, Frank. The memory of a child….hand in trusting hand…hand in caring and loving hand. Perhaps the child was unexpected …. but oh how the love shines through in this!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is lovely, Frank. You’ve captured a moment of frission that I think we’ve all had – when we realize that our parents were our age or younger once, and had lives and dreams that may not have included us. And still, this mother loves clearly and deeply, even if things are different than what she originally planned.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Smiles A Most Beautiful (at Least one)
    Person i’ve Ever known is both
    And a
    in the eyes
    of Her Creators
    It seems that all
    Creation Cares about is Existing
    Now For what may come will be as Life
    And i must
    Say there
    are some
    that it
    works out
    Perfect enough for Happiness..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  6. So much depth and emotion within the brevity of this ruba’i. It is actually very thought-provoking, imagining the youth of our mothers as they nurtured us. Some still needing nurturing , themselves.


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