Medicine
Alice Walker
Grandma sleeps
with
my sick
grand-
pa so she
can get him
during the
night
medicine
to stop
the
pain
In
the
morning
clumsily
I
wake
them
Her eyes
look at me
from under-
neath
his withered
arm
The
medicine
is
all
in
her long
un-
braided
hair.
Another poem that I loved the moment I read it. Some people say that the best poems are the ones that you have to read over and over again to really get them and then you love them. I'm sure that this poem has more in store for me, and there are poems that I have only slowly grown to love, but I think great poems can also grab you and hold you instantly without having to be read over and over first.
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