Pound the paper nest,
I’ll await the hornet’s sting.
The slip of summer’s handlebars,
the dreaded school bell rings.
I walk barefoot in fields of graying-green.
Summer won’t go to sleep without a tantrum,
so leave me to lie down for one last daydream.
Sky of peach pie.
Clouds of clotted cream.
My final chance to feel something.
©2023 | K.F. Hartless
Artwork: iStock
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Leave a reply to Simon Cancel reply