flickr photo by H.Tarar
Sky
I sit upon a wooden dock, my feet hang off the end
And at this moment I am sure that I don't need a friend
I cannot touch the water, though my sneakers try their best
And then I kick them off a while and lay back for a rest
The sky is like a bowl of cream suspended upside down
The peaks are whipped in such a way they never touch the ground
Instead, they hug the pretty top of such a pretty bowl
I spend an hour on my back, and just admire the whole
--Sarah Torribio
No comments:
Post a Comment