The shower door misted up.
I wondered why it was a door
and not a curtain.
evaporation, condensation.
Shampoo runs down my forehead
and stings my eyes.
I feel somewhat victorious that I can bear the pain
but worry of damaging pure eyesight?
Shampoo.
Smells fragrant of leaves and sweet morning dew.
I close my eyes and am now in the garden
with flowers and grass by my side
I have flown away with the swift winds of day
But my evening shower is nigh.
YOU ARE READING
Unrelated... A series of weird and wonderful poems
PoetryA collection of the unusual and the very usual poetry, A collection, a series, A set which grows over time © P.H.Dyer, 2011-2012 All rights reserved Note: I have had issues with people using my work without authorisation, and so I've had to put thi...
