Summer Dream
Last night I had a summer dream
our bellies pressed to the kitchen floor
crayons in hand as we draw
portraits of our family, stick figures and all
in a two dimensional house and the sun peaking in the corner
of the page. Yellow beams radiating
Ice cold pink lemonade used to coax
us from our art
urged to go play outside perhaps
hit the parks
Well, that one sucked, but it was different. Still trying new things from time to time. I need a poetry mentor. Desperately. Peace out.
1 comment:
I liked your poem. :) The images made me remember my own childhood and put a smile on my face.
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