My family and I had a relaxing 24 hours yesterday, a welcome respite from the tumultuous months behind us. This free verse was the resulting love child from it. Be gentle.
Searching sunlight filters through polyester in furious red,
Americana against ocean blue and cotton white.
Chickadees wail their love, a symphony with hissing hums of patient wasps.
Delicious brine sticks to chapped lips, licked raw.
I savor the taste, chase it with synthetic lemon.
Contented murmurs sift through my conscious like sand.
For a moment, I feel at peace.
Then I remember the malicious grey hanging over
my vibrant palette, smearing it's perfection, muddied.
The clouds draw in, blocking my orange sun.
Forced laughter drowns the fragile quiet.
. . . Yeah.
I don't usually post my "poetry" on here, (okay, never) but my friend really wanted access to this at all times, and I actually really like this poem for once, so . . . why not?
I haven't thought of a name for it. Hmmmmm. I think I will call it . . . Oyster.
Got any ideas? :)