Bright eyes playfully duel existence as the bouquet
of faces coo thoughtfully over the shoulder of 1988.
Giggles. Laughter. A joyful holler.
Tick tock.
Morning dew slumps in the early afternoon,
dripping glistening thoughts into the ground
upon which tiny feet tromp.
Tick…tick…tick tocks the conductor’s
tongue. Everything is wrong. Surreptitious.
A mother’s smile. A proud father’s nod.
The haze reveals our rib cracking hearts
from delicate memories no longer attached.
No comments:
Post a Comment