Our Neighbor's Son

And when he was a child He would go up the guava tree He would stand on a branch And move up and down and The ripe guava would fall on floor I and my sister gathered them Into heaps and took them home He would often pluck guavas Half ripen and throw them down My sister would held her skirt Open in front of her to catch them I and my sister gathered them Into heaps and took them home Then he would come down His pant pockets bulging with Yellowish guavas These are for her old ma He would say and run away He died last night I was standing by him Holding his hands The hands of a poor man Who could not bought guavas For his little children