Clouds poetry

The grilled have died

The temperature was humid
Skin sweating, bee buzzing landing on purple lilies
And sun flowers the grass was green and smell of
Earth With a trampoline. kids was laughing and doing Cartwheels enough energy to last them all day. like a car with enough fuel, road trips eyes closed feel the Breeze and let stress go. soft music played in the background, on the radio, looking forward to a family cook out. In the backyard, on the porch sits duke the golden retriever dog playing with a teddy bear, he ran in the backyard his paws thumping in the grass, when he heard a whistle his name being called his fur silk shiny and Glowing under the sun, Summer August the day Amelia sweet baby girl turned one.

But now– the grilled have died, old and rusty left behind Standing on one leg, grandma turned older cataract in both of her eyes, doesn't remembers my name anymore have turned slimmer as time keept
Bicycling by. The tires on papa car have become
Swings play grounds for the neighbors children, they use it as a swing on a tree branch a rope holding it together like the last thread on attached  heart holding a family together, love together but it fights no longer want to be apart. children have stopped growing young, the coconut tree have grown almost yearning for the blue sky, now birds make birth eggs little one sleeps in it, the grass have died brown and dusty, the trampoline have been destroyed hurricane chewed it up, smacking on it like gum, then spat it out like bad bush medicine, that mother always use to make when me and my siblings were sick or not, she says. "drink it, all up don't leave a drop in that cup". while we hold our breaths and swallow it in a rush, like it's life or death. the flowers have turn blue they now looked sulking with frowns cast upon their petals, in memory of Mr. grilled.

-ashes poetry