Just Like Javi

Poetry

Little boy waiting for the bus
on the corner with Mom,
his little belly sticking out
barrel-chested.

Destination clearly marked,
yellow rectangle of paper
pinned to his shirt.
Mrs. Miller’s class.

His deep brown eyes penetrate mine.
The fullness of his cheeks remind
me of someone
I used to know.

Angry, he stares
at the world in silence
while the others know
the routine.

I think, don’t be mad.
It’s just Kindergarten.

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