Yard Sale of Thoughts

Spring, the harmless slug
waiting to preyed upon.
Manicured toes running
barefoot across geometric lawns.

Cherry blossom newborn flesh
circles the Washington Monument,
stone steeple to the first president.

A patchwork of rectangular hives,
buzzing below
florescent-colored kites,
seagulls in search of a perch,
their tails tango in the
close embrace of the sky.

No one asks how long they last.
Nylon blossoms flying higher
than half-mast flags.

In the capital,
Saturdays are deceiving–
petals in the wind,
new memorials, and meetings.
Real-life worries
scrubbed white each evening.

©2023 | K.F. Hartless

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